Competition
by bundysbaby
Summary: Sometimes, fate needs a little kick in the butt!
1. Chapter 1

A/N - Hopefully I can get this all under one heading! This is my multi-chapter story. I pulled it out of Slices of Life and reposting under its own heading.

Disclaimer - I do not own nor profit from my Trixie stories!

Competition

The decibel level in the cafeteria at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School was at an all time high. Teachers assigned as lunch room chaperones silently wished the period was over, and thought longingly of dancing Tylenol bottles. Everyone (especially the female contingent) was sneaking glances and buzzing about the group of guys slouchily holding up the wall near the outside exit to the courtyard. It certainly wasn't Tad Webster or Bill Van der Schaal or Chris Morgan causing all the barely-contained excitement.

The new student was tall, athletically built and very, very handsome in that Zac- Efronesque-Chace-Crawfordy sort of way the girls found most sexy nowadays. He had a shock of thick, auburn hair and changeable eyes that sometimes looked emerald green; at others a greeny blue. His mom could describe how they deepened to stormy grey/green when he was upset or angry.

Aidan McCourt sighed, used to being the new kid and cynosure of all eyes. Especially in a small town like this one, where practically everyone had grown up together since Kindergarten. Heck, they were all probably best friends when they were embryos. This move was supposed to be the final one, but that's what his parents said about the last two moves. Then the Army would transfer his dad. Again. They'd have to begin again in a new home, new school and leave behind just-made friends. Aidan was proud of his dad, and the sacrifices he made for his country, but did they really have to move Senior Year? Did one of the sacrifices have to be his peripatetic family?

Reflecting inwardly, Aidan was totally unaware of whatever it was the other guys were talking about, or of the flirtatious looks coming his way. His logical, powerful mind was engaged in cataloging the layout of the school; the location of his locker and classes so far; and bits and pieces of information he had picked up about the Sleepyside social scene.

Apparently there was some sort of metal grasshopper you were supposed to greet somewhere in town; no McDonald's but a place called Wimpy's that functioned as the go-to teen hangout. The school itself was just a typical suburban big-box school; but very academically oriented and challenging. Unlike some of the schools he attended, it offered many clubs and after-school activities and dances as counterpoint to the strict academic standards. Aidan heard whispers of drugs – there was no escape from that scourge anywhere – and some really weird stuff about birds. What was that again…pigeons…sparrows, no…Bob-Whites and solving mysteries. Like a small town like Sleepyside had anything more mysterious than kids knocking over mailboxes for fun or cow tipping.

In one of those very odd moments when all sounds cease in a crowded, noisy atmosphere in some sort of cosmic co-incidence, Aidan was startled out of his self-absorption by the melodious sounds of females giggling. He glanced toward the source of the pleasing sound, his eyes bypassing the pretty head cheerleader who flounced by him three times already without even earning so much as an admiring stare, much to her chagrin.

His eyes widened and his world seemed to tilt as he caught his breath sharply. The three girls who joined the slow-moving salad queue (what was it with girls and salad, he snorted silently to himself) were flushed and still giggling. But he was only aware of one of them. He almost forgot to exhale. His blood began violently pulsing through his veins as a spear of desire shot through him.

He interrupted Tad, in the middle of recounting his brother's humorous adventure with a woman speeding through town in a 'vette with the top down who also happened to be totally nude. She was multitasking, she informed Officer Spider Webster; driving and working on her tan simultaneously.

"Who is she?' Aidan pointed at the gaggle of giggling females bringing up the rear of the queue. Tad peeked over and sighed. Trust Di Lynch to attract another admirer!

"She's Diana Lynch, she's also a senior. She's considered the prettiest girl in Sleepyside," Tad informed him. "Everyone thinks she looks like a younger, more modern version of Elizabeth Taylor. She's…"

"No not her. Not the black haired one. The other one." Aidan unconsciously licked his lips. "Oh, you mean Honey Wheeler. She's pretty too. She gets her nickname because she's so nice and sweet, and her hair is the color of …"

"I mean the blonde. She's gorgeous!" Tad drew away a bit from Aidan, and squinted at the handsome newcomer. Maybe Aidan needed glasses. "You mean Trixie?" It was asked in the same tone that Tad would reserve for replying to someone informing him the Martians had landed in Town Square.

"Trixie." Aidan breathed. "She's the petite blonde with the long curly hair?" The blonde was smiling at something one of the others said and as she laughed, her blonde curls danced riotously around her face. He wondered briefly what it would be like to take one of those springing curls and tug on it gently.

"Yeah, that's her. Trixie Belden. She's a nice girl and all but I wouldn't call her _gorgeous_." Chris joined the conversation. "I mean Di Lynch, or Honey Wheeler, now there's a couple of things I'd like to hit!" Grunts of assent were heard from the other guys, and all male eyes turned towards the queue.

Aidan kept those startling, changeable eyes trained only on the laughing blonde. "What, are all you guys in Sleepyside blind?" He nodded towards the girls again. "The black-haired one is pretty in a conventional way. I've seen a million girls like her. The other one, Honey did you say? Well, she's got that sort of ice-princess Miss Aristocratic thing going on. Kind of Grace Kellyish, if you like that type. But, wow, the blonde one…" Aidan stopped, aware he sounded like some eighth grade kid with his first crush.

"Trixie? She's just cute little Trixie Belden who lives down in the hollow," Tad meant no disrespect to Trixie, but she was surely not in the same class as the other two girls. Tad always imagined Di and Honey as expensive, fine wines to be savored slowly; Trixie was playful, bubbling champagne that could turn a bit dangerous if you shook it up.

"Cute? Boy, you better take another look. Better yet, I will." Aidan's eyes roved over her. "Her hair is like yellow gold, and that peaches and cream skin! She may be petite, but she's totally curvy in all the right places, not stickboard thin. And that smile, wow!" Aidan could have gone on and on about Trixie's attributes, when Bill interrupted his soliloquy.

"And she's very, very taken." The other three young men nodded solemnly in agreement. But they were also seeing Trixie through Aidan's eyes, and suddenly discovered that Aidan saw something that they missed. And apparently were missing for quite some time.

Trixie Belden had grown up. Somewhere along the way, she had shed her baby fat (or at least it shifted to all the right places); her freckles all but disappeared and she became a living, breathing Barbie. At least on the outside. But it didn't matter anyway. They all knew who held the key to Trixie's warrior heart.

"What? Is she hooked up with someone?" Aidan scrubbed at his chest, suddenly aware of a little ache right in the middle. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, although his fingers itched to touch all those long, golden, spiraling curls. He briefly wondered what would happen if he just walked over there and planted one on those soft, full lips. _And they lived happily ever after…_

"Well, not officially. Everyone knows she's Jim Frayne's special girl."

"I don't think I've met him yet."

"You won't." Tad ran his hand through his hair and counted the fourth time the cheerleader sauntered by. She had now rolled up her skirt just a bit more and the sway to her hips was more pronounced. The tall redhead just ignored her, his eyes pasted on one Ms. Belden. "Jim is a third-year college student, at Columbia in the City. He rooms with Brian and Mart Belden, Trixie's older brothers, and Dan Mangan, their friend. They all go to school in the City, though not the same school. I think you probably heard someone talk about the Bob-Whites, their out-of-school club. They all live outside of town, and it's the seven of them against the world."

Aidan turned away from the appealing sight of the sexy blonde and leaned his broad shoulder against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles. "Yeah, I heard something about birds and mysteries, but I thought someone was playing a joke on me. You know, send the new kid looking for the rooftop pool."

"Trix is a really talented amateur detective. Honey, too. Hell, Trix helped out the police so many times and caught so many crooks it's a wonder Chief Molinson doesn't put her on the police payroll. No offense to Spider." Tad nodded, none taken. Chris straightened up and stretched out the kinks. Leaning against the wall in the lunchroom and looking bored sure cramped up the muscles. And none of the girls were even giving him a glance! "She and Honey want to open up a detective agency some day. All the Bob-Whites help them solve their mysteries."

"I'm sure Trix'll do it. They certainly helped me and my brother," Tad added.

"So, this Jim Frayne guy is Trixie's boyfriend?" Aidan wanted it to be spelled out and crystal clear. If she was unavailable, well, his sense of honor would prohibit him from poaching on another guy's territory, but if she was free…

"Well, not officially. Everyone thinks he's just waiting for her to graduate high school. Heck, he's been madly in love with her since she was thirteen and he was fifteen."

"But he hasn't made a move yet," Aidan mused. Things were certainly looking up. Just then, the three girls approached the door, laden with cafeteria trays and whatever passed for grilled chicken salad as churned out by the lunch ladies.

"Hey Tad, would you mind getting the door?" Di batted her long eyelashes and immediately Tad lost whatever train of thought was choo-chooing through his brain.

Honey turned to the new boy and gave him a bright smile. When Tad didn't say anything, being too lost in Di's gentle expression, she gently trod on one of his toes.

"Oh, where are my manners?" he asked rhetorically. Tad knew exactly where his manners were. They had rushed southward at one melting glance from lavender eyes. "Honey Wheeler, Diana Lynch and Trixie Belden, this is Sleepyside's newest senior, Aidan McCourt. Aidan's dad is in the Army and was transferred to recruiting in the White Plains."

"Nice to meet you, Aidan! I hope you like Sleepyside." Di smiled, her patented I-know-I'm beautiful-and-you're-just-enchanted-with-me-but-I'm-taken smile. Aidan mumbled something in response, not even looking at her. Di was a bit stunned and then miffed; she turned and sailed out into the courtyard.

"Hi Aidan! Welcome to Sleepyside. If you need any help or anything getting around, all you have to do is ask." He didn't even glance at Honey, his eyes staring straight into Trixie's blue ones. Honey joined Di in the courtyard, her detectiving radar suddenly active. They both turned to watch Trixie.

"What is it with Trix and red-headed guys?" Di grumbled. "Jim is crazy about her, and she sure has Regan wound 'round her little finger."

Honey took her cell phone out a quickly snapped a few pictures while Di was complaining. "I don't know. Maybe it's the curls."

Aidan was sure he must have mumbled something to the other two girls. His eyes were fixated on the beautiful blonde with the bluest eyes he had ever seen in front of him, giving him a brilliant smile and looking at him with undisguised interest. "Hmmm…Aidan, that's Irish." A small hint of rose touched her cheeks.

His eyes flared at the sound of her raspy voice; she sounded like every guy's most secret and delicious dream. "Hi Trixie, yeah, I'm one-hundred percent Irish," he added with a dangerous, sexy smile. His hand, of its own accord, almost rose to tug at one of those tempting, golden curls. Trixie sucked in a bit of air, and the rose flush deepened. She might absolutely, positively love Jim but hey, she wasn't dead. Wow, he sure was handsome. And tall. And a redhead!

"Better watch out for Trixie Belden, girl detective," Bill taunted. "She'll weasel all your secrets out of you in a flash!"

Trixie wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue at Bill and turned to join the other Bob-White girls waiting for her. "See you around!" She bounced out, taking her buoyancy and joyful energy with her, and left the four men feeling rather flat.

"Di is totally peeved with Aidan," Honey teased, once Trixie sat down at the opposite side of the table. Trix glanced at Di with concern. It wasn't often that the gentle Di became distressed at anything, or anybody.

"Oh Honey, stop it! I'm not peeved at ALL!" Di twirled her salad around on her fork. "Oh yes you are! Aidan wasn't making goo-goo eyes at you like every other boy in Sleepyside." It was like that wherever they went, Honey mused. One look from Di and they all just melted. Except for Brian and Jim of course. They seemed to be immune from the get-go.

Di put her fork on the plate and looked at Trixie. "No, he didn't. Who cares? I have Mart. You think I need Botox? He couldn't seem to tear his eyes off Trixie."

Trixie began to giggle and then boisterously laugh out loud. "So what you're saying is the only reason he didn't fall at your feet is because you are developing wrinkles at the advanced age of 18? And he probably couldn't tear his eyes off me because he was counting my freckles."

The other two girls, by silent mutual agreement, bit back their remarks. Trixie had absolutely no idea how beautiful she was or how she radiated an unconscious sexiness that had men turning their heads. Everyone except the boys at Sleepyside High! They say familiarity breeds…obliviousness.

Honey looked into her salad, trying to read it as if it were tea leaves. She noticed the way Aidan was staring at Trixie from across the room, with an expression like she was the answer to every one of his most secret prayers. Maybe Trix wasn't skilled at reading male interest, but Honey certainly was. When Tad introduced them, Aidan hadn't taken his eyes off Trixie, and Honey was smart enough to discern the gleam of interest in Trixie's blue gaze. She worried a bit at her lower lip. A tall, athletic redhead who only had eyes for her best friend. Sound like somebody she knew? The difference was a guy who was available right here in Sleepyside, and not a world away in New York City for most of the year. Maybe one who wasn't so honorable as to wait to declare himself at their prom.

Honey expelled a short sigh. She was dating Brian, who despite as being as honorable as Jim, asked her out the moment she turned 17. Di and Mart became a couple before he even finished high school. Trixie was the odd woman out. She knew Trixie felt it, too. All of the boys in Sleepyside acted like she had a big sign declaring she belonged to Jim Frayne tattooed on her forehead, or still saw her as Tomboy Trixie. Honey was quite exasperated with her brother. Did he expect Trix to just sit around forever waiting? Had he even taken a good look at her lately?

She spent the rest of the lunch period mentally composing a tactful, informative e-mail to her brother, Jim, to be accompanied by some stealthily shot pictures. Maybe it was nothing, but Honey suddenly had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Aidan watched Trixie until the bell rang for next period. So Jim Frayne wasn't around, and there was nothing official. He was observant enough to note the little blonde's quick flash of interest and pretty, deepening flush when they spoke. He smiled to himself.

It looks like Jim Frayne was in for some competition.

A/N: Let me know if there is any interest in Competition, Part II!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hereis Chapter 2 of Competition. I still do not own Trixie Belden or any characters in the Random House Series.

**Competition Chapter 2**

Aidan hung his bookbag in the small mudroom in the back of the pretty farmhouse-style house that was now home. While he didn't live as far out in the country as some of the students did, his family lived far enough out of town proper to have a bit of land, a converted barn and no extremely close by neighbors. He hated it when they lived in the townhouse in the city at one of his dad's posts.

Siobhan McCourt smiled at her handsome boy, her hands busy chopping vegetables in the warm country kitchen. "How was school today, honey?" He gave his mom a smacking kiss on the cheek, as always enchanted by her soft Irish brogue. Stealing a few carrots, he perched on one of the tall stools on the other side of the island. When he didn't reply, she peeked up to see a slight flush staining his cheeks. Well, now, this was unusual.

"Aidan? Did everything go okay?" Siobhan stopped chopping and took the seat across from her child. She knew it was difficult to start over and over, but that was the life of an Army brat and an Army wife. She accepted it, maybe even welcomed it, because she acknowledged the lifestyle before she married John. Her mother's heart held more than a dollop of guilt because her children certainly didn't sign on for their itinerant lifestyle. That's probably why Kaitlin married at such a young age and was busily establishing roots in Maine, with her husband's close-knit – and stationary - family. "Aidan?"

He was startled out his daydream about the blonde with the blue eyes living in a hollow in the country, whatever a hollow was. "School was all right, Ma. Of course I was the talk of the cafeteria." He grimaced, and stared at his hands. The first couple of days were always the hardest, until something newer and more exciting captured the students' attention. He was accustomed to being a seven days' wonder. His mother's slender fingers covered his larger hand, "It will get better. It always does, Aidan."

He looked down at their hands, gave a slight squeeze to her fingers, and smiled. He didn't want her to cause her any more distress than the last move entailed. That, and his sister Kaitlin's impetuous marriage. His parents were more than shocked when Kaitlin announced she eloped with Jake and would be setting up house in Bangor, Maine, where they both attended university. He was acutely aware his dad blamed himself and his job for Kaitlin's rash decision.

"No problem, Ma." He squeezed her hand again and stole another carrot. "I'm going to start my homework." Siobhan slid off the chair, and slowly resumed her homely kitchen chores, trying to puzzle out Aidan's current mood.

A few minutes later, Aidan was up in his room, sitting comfortably cross-legged on his bed. His Mac was casting its white light over him as he typed "Trixie Belden" into his favorite search engine. He wasn't really expecting anything other than some old school newspaper articles or a mention or two in the local paper. Maybe she played soccer or something. There were those deadly little blurbs about school sports that usually linked you to something completely different or outmoded.

His eyes widened in astonishment when the search was complete. There were hundreds of references to the girl detective, the cases she solved and the charities that benefited from her largesse, and that of the club she was involved in. All the advice he heard his dad give over the years came flooding back. First you have to understand your quarry by studying her habits. What makes her tick?

In the next few days, Aidan promised himself, he was going to become an expert in all things Trixie.

John McCourt was home at a reasonable hour, and appreciated the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. He placed his hat and car keys carefully on the small table in the foyer, shucked his uniform jacket and hung it up neatly in the hall closet. His fingers ran through his short, crisp black hair as he thought about the few boys that were his appointments today. An old picture of Kaitlin and Aidan caught his eyes, and he walked over and ran his fingers around the frame. He found it ironic that he spent his days pointing out the benefits of enlisting in the armed services to other people's children, yet failed to convince his own. He scrubbed his hand over his heart, still aching after Kaitlin's precipitous marriage and desertion of their family unit. His baby. Married!

Siobhan stood in the doorway watching John's expressions chase across his face, and hurting for him. "Hi Soldier," she purred, acting silly to alleviate his mood. "Looking for a good time?"

He knew what she was doing, and gratefully joined in. "No, I have a lovely Irish wife who gives me a real good time. I'm looking for a good meal." He strode over and like his son, gave her a great smacking kiss on the cheek. "Where's Aidan?"

"Homework." Her fine brow knit. "Something's bothering him today." Like the team they were, both McCourts set the table and dished tonight's dinner. If it gave them a pang not to set the fourth place, neither mentioned it.

"New school problems?" God, John hoped not. It was bad enough to have had to break his promise to the family and move yet again. All he needed was Aidan to start having problems, as well as his own mind continually replaying Kaitlin's harsh words last time they spoke. A tiny ache between his eyes began to intensify, and he rubbed at it.

"I don't think so, John. He didn't talk to me about it. Maybe he'll talk to you. Go wash up and call Aidan."

John smartly saluted his pretty wife, and left to do his general's bidding.

Dinner was over, and Aidan needed to talk. To his Dad. Alone. Giving his mother his most charming smile, he asked her if she would mind if he put off loading the dishwasher for a while. He needed to speak with his father.

Siobhan slanted a glance at John, and gave a slight nod. Whatever was bothering Aidan might be better discussed man-to-man. "No problem," she answered brightly. "You're excused from chores today. First day of school celebration and all." She only hoped it was an issue that could be solved. She began collecting the silverware, and wondered what her Kaitlin was doing even as her men went to talk.

Aidan looked at his dad, sitting there so straight and tall in his favorite recliner and felt a rush of love. Maybe they did move all over the place, but the one thing he could always count on was his parents' love and support. He knew he could talk to them about anything, any time. They didn't lecture or pry, and he appreciated that. But now, he just didn't know how to begin. He never had this problem before. After all, he conjectured, and with no vanity at all, he knew he was relatively good looking. He had no trouble attracting girls. But somehow, he knew Trixie was going to be…special. A special girl.

"Uh, Dad," he began, and stopped. How do you explain to your own father about the connection you felt with a girl you just met? Everything he learned about Trixie Belden since being knocked off his feet in the lunchroom just drew him more into her exciting orbit. She was energetic, bubbly and full of the joy of living. She was adventurous and beautiful. He shook his head. He still couldn't believe the guys in his new school still thought of her as Tomboy Trixie. He had heard her called that more than once during the balance of the afternoon. And if this Jim Frayne guy didn't know how special she was, well, he certainly more than enough time to make a move.

"Aidan?" His boy was sitting on the ottoman he pulled up, and was lost in thought. He saw the ways his son's eyes suddenly flared, and the little shake of his head.

"Sorry Da," Aidan used the Irish diminutive for father, as he sometimes did when his emotions were running high. John was intrigued. What happened today at school that had Aidan so flummoxed?

Taking a deep breath, Aidan just rushed in with a somewhat garbled and disjointed explanation. He knew he wasn't making much sense, and stared down at the rug after his rather breathless speech. God, he just made a mull of it. He could just imagine what his Dad was thinking.

John relaxed. A girl. He caught the gist of the rambling narrative his son blurted out. Girl problems were solvable. He searched Aidan's flushed, miserable face and began his line of questioning, using the skills he learned as a recruiter to piece together the whole charming story.

An hour later, John joined Siobhan in the kitchen. She appeared to be engaged in reading the Sleepyside Sun, but he wasn't fooled. She slanted a glance at him as he entered the room and arched a brow. Unless Aidan swore John to secrecy, she knew he'd tell her what was troubling their son.

Just to be a bit on the devilish side, John went to the Keurig and brewed himself a cup of decaf, knowing all the while his pretty wife was seething with curiosity. He grasped the mug in his hands and sat down, reaching for the sports section. Siobhan was faster.

"Uh-uh, not until you tell me what's going on with Aidan." She snatched the paper out of reach and onto the chair next to her. John grinned, a huge male grin that immediately put all of her motherly senses on alert.

"He met a girl in school today," John began, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. And just so, Siobhan McCourt heard all about Sleepyside's famous girl detective, and the object of her son's attention. Trixie Belden. She was going to remember _that_ name.


	3. Chapter 3

Competition, Chapter 3

Honey Wheeler was poised in front of her laptop, slender hands hovering above the keys. The only part of the email to Jim she composed in the last half-hour was his email address. How do you tactfully explain to your brother that everyone knew about his supposedly secret, years-long, stagnant relationship with your best friend and said relationship was about to hit a very large, handsome speed bump?

Honey knew that Jim asked Trixie to the girls' Senior Prom on the night they attended _his_ prom on a friendly basis. Well, maybe not _asked_ her. It was more like, "We'll do this again when it's time for your prom" thing. She couldn't imagine why Jim thought of Trixie's Prom as a magic date when Trixie would miraculously attain adulthood and be worthy of actually dating him, if that was his current plan. Or maybe they were only going to go again as friends. Jim was playing his cards awfully close to the chest. Not that he ever discussed anything regarding his feelings for Trixie with Honey. There was a certain amount of embarrassment when the one you loved was either your sister's best friend or your best friend's sister.

She never told Jim how Trixie's tender heart was thrilled at her friends finding love with her older brothers, but was crushed when Jim maintained their status quo. Especially since there seemed to be some sort of conspiracy by the Sleepyside males that resulted in Trixie being more or less dateless all through high school - unless there was a group of them going, either all the BWGs or just friends from school. It wasn't something Trixie advertised; in fact, Honey doubted if _any_ of the male Bob-Whites knew. Trix didn't even talk to Di or Honey about it.

While Di and Honey rhapsodized to each other (but not to Trix) about the deep, delicious kisses and not-so-innocent groping at the proms and dates they enjoyed with Mart and Brian, Trixie told them of Jim dropping her off at Crabapple Farm rather early and his chaste peck on the cheek and tug on "his" curl.

When the boys were home from college, alone time was always something difficult to arrange with the seven of them; various jobs, chores and life kept intruding. Honey surmised that it was never apparent to any of the boys that Trixie never had a date to go to the movies or parking on the bluffs. She was just _Trixie, _always there, always available, and they just took her and her feelings for granted.

After a moment, her fingers flew across the keys. The smartphone connected easily to the computer and she uploaded her pictures. All four of then. Unfortunately, she never noticed that she uploaded a snapshot that Trixie made her promise she would never, ever show to Jim. Honey's index finger hesitated a moment over the Enter key, before she pressed it and the missive shot off into cyberspace. She placed her cell phone on the desk and waited for the call she hoped would come.

Jim Frayne was writing a paper at the desk in his bedroom. Outside, the cacophony of noise that was New York City barely filtered up the 14 floors. He felt privileged to have the ability to live in Manhattan in a luxurious, secure private apartment instead of an overcrowded dorm or overpriced student apartment. Matthew Wheeler bought the entire floor of the building where the Bob-Whites once entertained their friends from Happy Valley, Iowa. The boys lived on one-half of the floor, each with his own private bedroom, a couple of bathrooms between each, a large living room and a kitchen with all the modern conveniences 4 guys could appreciate. The other half was being readied for the girls, with only the hallway separating them. The girls couldn't get into too much trouble there, Matt hoped – especially Trixie, and after the kids moved out, he would have two apartments for business or personal use. It would be great to allow both international business and domestic partners to use instead of an impersonal, pricey hotel, both for quick trips and extended stays.

A little envelope appeared on the taskbar of his laptop; the modern equivalent of "You Got Mail!" Having a slight case of writer's block, he clicked on the icon and it opened to show an email from his sister. He grinned at the screen, and prepared himself for one of Honey's rambling, confusing, but endearing emails. The only person worse was Trixie.

Hi Jim, I hope that everything is going ok back at college, although why it wouldn't with you being such a brain I don't know. I mean it's not like you really have to study all that hard; it seemed to Trixie and me and we'd be studying for hours. And you would barely crack open a book and get straight As. Life is so unfair sometimes and you get to be tall and athletic too!

Speaking of Trixie, we had some excitement today at school. (Jim frowned at this, a sharp pain in his stomach. Excitement and Trixie. Now _there _was a lethal combination.)

We have a new senior class member! (Only in Sleepyside would a new kid cause a big commotion. Jim, however, was not at all enchanted with the next several revelations).

He's tall, has longish auburn hair, and is very, very handsome. His name is Aidan McCourt, and his dad is a career soldier who was transferred to White Plains. I think he is the recruiting officer there. Di was kind of upset, because when Tad introduced all of us at lunch, Aidan only had eyes for Trixie! I think this is the first time ever a boy completely ignored Di and me and set out to charm Trixie. And was he ever charming! All the girls in the cafeteria were just drooling over him, and all he could do was look at our Trix! Not that she noticed. Much.

I took a couple of pictures with my cell phone so when you come home if you happen to see him, you can introduce yourself. I attached them below.

TTYL, love

Honey

Jim opened up the first of four pictures. It was amazing the clarity you could get from cell phone cameras nowadays. The picture showed a tall, handsome boy – no – make that man – looking down at Trixie with the same intense expression most guys reserved for the latest centerfold. Trixie, in turn, was giving him a brilliant smile and looked up at him with that curious light that spilled from her remarkable eyes. In the next two pictures, it almost looked liked he was reaching up to tug on one of her curls.

Jim Frayne did not like this, not one little bit.

The fourth picture, one that obviously was not one of the lot Honey was supposed to send, hit Jim like a punch in the gut. His eyes darkened to the deepest emerald, and a flush spread its way across his face. All the blood rushed from his head, leaving him a little dizzy, and traveled in a southward direction, making sitting a fairly uncomfortable proposition.

The photo was obviously taken last summer, at the Manor House's pool. Trixie was standing there, both arms lifting those long, spiraling curls off the back of her neck. Her face was raised as if to the sun, and her blue eyes were sparkling, matching the wide, white smile splitting her face.

And she was wearing the teeniest, tiniest midnight blue bikini, very unlike the modest one piece suits she wore when the guys were around.

Jim's hot gaze started at her very shapely ankles and traveled up long, tanned legs to a pronounced curve of hip, a tiny waist and some absolutely killer curves that were barely covered. Her beautiful face was lightly flushed, setting off her rose and gold complexion, and Jim's eyes became riveted on the tiny, sparkling silver charm dangling from her belly button. On her taut, tan belly. In a bathing suit that almost wasn't there. _She had her belly button pierced._ Here he thought he knew everything about her, was conversant in Trixie-speak; could lecture with authority on her favorite foods, favorite singer or most hated class. Jim caught himself actually reaching toward the screen, as if he could gently swipe the dangly charm and the silky, smooth skin…

"Oh, Trixie," he whispered, almost a groan. His paper was forgotten. In fact, everything faded away to just him and that tantalizing image. "Oh, Trix."

His fingers fumbled for his cell phone, shaking slightly as he placed a call to his sister.

Honey was worrying the rest of the lipstick off her lower lip when her cell phone chirped. _Of course_, she was having second thoughts. Jim was an extremely private person, and Trixie was very guarded about letting her true feelings show. Maybe neither of them would appreciate her meddling. Maybe Jim really only wanted to be friends. Maybe Trixie should just accept the inevitable, a schoolgirl crush that never materialized and move on.

Maybe pigs should fly.

A glance at the caller, ID, and Honey took a deep breath, garnered all her courage and answered. "Hi to my very own full-blooded adopted big brother! To what do I owe the honor?"

Jim was having second thoughts about calling his sister. After all, what could he really say to her? _ I don't like the way this guy is looking at my Trixie. Make him stop before I come home and beat him to a pulp._ Yeah. Sure. It was uncomfortable enough that Trixie's brother was dating his sister. He didn't want to know what went on with them. Ever. He also didn't want Brian to know about his own feelings for _Brian's_ sister. After all, he was lusting after Trixie since he was 15. He really, really didn't want to blurt out details of his non-existent love life to his _sister_, for god's sake. And then she answered, and the choice was taken from him.

"Hey, can't I just call up to say hi to my very own full-blooded adopted sister?" he countered. Oh that was smooth. Real smooth. Subterfuge was never his specialty. He left _that_ to Dan. He needed to find a way to introduce this new guy into the conversation, but without being too obvious about it. "So, um,"

"I suppose you're calling me about the pictures with Jim-lite." Honey broke into his stuttering start. Since when did Honey become so…so forceful? What happened to his shy and retiring sister?

Jim was totally confused. Not only was he being put on the defensive immediately, and before he planned out his skillful interrogation, but to whom was Honey referring? "Wait a minute. The guy in the picture name's Jim Light? I thought it was Ian, or Ethan or Eddie."

A bubble of delighted laughter trilled right out of Honey; it just could not be suppressed. So Mr. Honorable _did_ have a jealous bone in his body! "His name is _Aidan_, silly. In case you haven't noticed, _Jim_, he's tall, with reddish hair and sort-of green eyes and is giving Trixie some _very_ fond glances. Jim-lite!" Sometimes all you needed to do was to give someone a shove in the right direction. She hoped.

"Um, well," he began again, but Honey, this new take-charge Honey interrupted his less than erudite speech. She sobered suddenly, and her voice was more serious than the past few minutes were. "Jim, we _do_ need to talk. We need to talk about you, Trixie and Jim-lite." She could hear him sigh over the phone. "But not now. We need to talk in person. I'm coming into the City on Friday afternoon after school with Mother and Daddy for some retail therapy with Mother on Saturday. They have a business dinner Friday night, and Brian is working at the hospital, so I'll meet you at 7 at Lucabelli's." The tiny, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant was a favorite of the guys since they had moved to the City. What the siblings needed to talk about was, well, theirs and not involving the rest of the Bob-Whites, so Honey added, just be sure, "Alone."

Jim rubbed his temple, where a full-blown headache was beginning to pound like the ever-present sound of jackhammers in the city. "Alone," he agreed, and flipped his phone shut, fisting it tightly in his large hand. He desired that conversation as much as he looked forward to a root canal.

Mr. Honorable would _never_ admit to throwing his phone on the nightstand and walking over to his printer. Or inserting a single sheet of Kodak Photo Paper. Or picking up his phone and sending a certain picture of his _very_ special girl to it and waiting impatiently while it printed out, in glorious, shiny 8x12 color and then snicking the lock shut on his bedroom door.

He'd never admit to lying down on his lonely bed, forgetting _all about_ that paper due, holding that picture in his hands while his mind took flight in the most delicious, sexy, _arousing_ fantasies, all centering around the beautiful blonde pixie in a teeny-weeny bikini.


	4. Chapter 4

Aidan McCourt was heading in the direction of the student parking lot, thinking about Ms. Trixie Belden and the fact their paths did not cross for several days, when a blonde dynamo slammed into him and sent his bookbag crashing to the ground. She ended up on her butt with the most delicious flush spreading across her face.

The bluest eyes he had ever seen peeped up at him as an apology was stammered from her lips. "Oh gleeps, Aidan! I'm so sorry." A quick, white utterly dazzling smile. "I'm always in too much of a hurry. Makes me klutzy."

Wow. Were the fates on his side, or what? He gazed down at the object not only of his affections, but of his intense study, sprawled quite inelegantly at his feet. Reaching down a helping hand, he smiled back. "No harm done."

She placed her small hand into his much larger one as he assisted her up - very effortlessly, she noted. And definitely no mention of her salaaming to him! He held her hand a little too long and a little too tightly before reluctantly releasing it. "Where were you headed in such a hurry?"

Trixie was busy dusting the dirt off the backside of her jeans, drawing his very interested gaze to that portion of her anatomy. "Late bus." She looked at the parking lot in time to see said bus speedily exit the parking lot. "Oh, woe. Missed the bus again! Drat that Chris Morgan!"

Aidan looked puzzled, so she continued. "Um, he's supposed to be tutoring me in Trig so I can pass the finals, and he never shows up. This is the third or fourth time I waited in the math lab and he just blew me off." Her lips tilted up at the corners. "Looks like I'll be scouting for a new tutor."

_Know your objective's strengths and weaknesses. Don't hesitate to exploit your objective's weaknesses if they will help you attain your desired goal._

"Hey, no problem Trix. If you need a tutor, I'll be glad to assist. Math is one of my strongest subjects – just so you know, I'm taking AP Calculus." The more time he could spend in her presence, without the other two girls, the better for his master plan. After all, Honey was Jim Frayne's sister and Diana Lynch and Mart Belden were inseparable, according to the rumor mill. They may not appreciate his desire to lure Trixie into an outside-of-their-little-clique relationship.

Her eyes sparkled up at him, and he could almost feel the effervescence bubble out and over him, tickling him like a bath in champagne. "Well, are you more reliable than that Mr. Morgan?" she teased.

"Let's just say that Chris Morgan has his interests elsewhere," Aidan deadpanned. "Like the color guard."

"Hmmm, only a couple days at Sleepyside High and you've found out some secrets. Should I be scared?" Trixie listened to herself. It actually sounded like she was _flirting_ with this extremely good-looking guy. Her! Trixie Belden. She vaguely wondered if she should play the lottery. Things were suddenly looking very up.

"Oh, I don't think you need to be scared of me, Ms. Belden. But, what are you going to do now that you missed the bus?" Aidan held his breath, waiting for her answer.

Trixie grimaced. "Well, I'll walk into Town Square and wait at the bank for my dad and catch a ride with him. Moms is going to be pretty upset though, because I promised to help my younger brother with his homework." She took out her cell phone and flipped it open, when long slender fingers covered it.

"I have my car. I can give you a ride home; it's no bother," Aidan added when it appeared Trixie was going to object. "Besides, you can point out the exciting Sleepyside sights to the new guy."

Trixie closed her cell phone with a snap. Well, why not? He seemed like a friendly sort of boy, and wasn't too hard to look at either. "That's really nice of you Aidan, if you're sure I'm not imposing. And just so you know, Sleepyside is not _exactly_ on the list of 10 most exciting places in the US. There's a reason why it's called _Sleepyside._" As they walked to the parking lot, he explained he needed to stop at his home for a few minutes if that was okay. His mom likely had packages he would need to drop off the UPS store until she set up her accounts in Sleepyside.

"My mom is Irish – from Ireland I mean. She runs her own business on the web called _A Wee Bit'O Ireland_. She sells all kinds of handmade Irish merchandise that she gets from artisans in Ireland." It was a booming business for his mother and a portable one, too. She was probably behind on orders because of the move and having to remodel a portion of the barn into an office/warehouse for her.

"Gleeps, no problem with me! I appreciate the ride. It would still take me quite a while to get home if I caught the bus since they drop off all the town kids first and us country bumpkins last." Trixie marveled at how easy he was to talk to, and how nicely he offered to drive her home. How very _Jim-like_ he was!

His Pathfinder was older, but very clean. His long, strong fingers grasped Trixie's elbow as he helped her up into the truck. A few seconds later he was settled in the driver's seat, buckling his seat belt and starting the vehicle. "We're out on Valley Road," he explained, while guiding the vehicle out in traffic.

"Oh, that runs right into Glen Road! Where I live," Trixie added. "You know, if your mom has packages, we pass right by Mr. Lytell's General Store on my way home. I know he ships for UPS, so you don't have to drive all the way back to town." Of course, she would send him into the store by himself. Mr. Lytell was no fan of Trixie's. No sense in tainting his opinion of the new kid, she thought with amusement.

In just a few minutes, Aidan was pulling into the driveway of the appealing farmhouse he now called home, and parking near the large, freshly painted barn in the backyard. Trixie remembered the house entering the real-estate market just a few months ago. The yuppie couple who purchased it from the original owners just as quickly lost it to foreclosure when the market took its latest nosedive.

"C'mon in and meet my mom," Aidan invited. "She'll be out in the barn checking orders, packing stuff for shipment and all that." Before Trixie could demur, Aidan opened the passenger door and was standing there with that dangerous, sexy smile of his. And truth to tell, Trixie _was_ curious.

Once inside, Trixie noticed the barn was meticulously neat, with rows of metal shelving holding a great many objects. Quilts and cups, leprechauns and faeries, even an assortment of what looked like chocolates in a small, air-conditioned room. Large ceiling fans kept the air in the barn circulating. One section was enclosed in a glass-walled office space. A pretty older woman sat in there, her face red with frustration, and obviously cursing in Gaelic at the laptop on her desk.

Aidan shot a quick, impish grin to Trixie before he loudly announced their presence. "Ma. We have company!" He grasped Trixie's small hand and pulled her into the office, where, if possible, the woman Aidan called Ma became the victim of an even deeper red flush. Trixie felt an immediate kinship with the woman; blushes were the bane of her life too.

Siobhan McCourt stood and smoothed down her green sweater with little white shamrocks embroidered all over it. With a twinkle in her blue eyes, she said, "Well, young lady, I do hope you don't understand the Old Language," as she extended her slim hand. Trixie immediately responded to Siobhan's teasing tone. "Oh, but I do! You were complimenting your laptop on its sterling performance," as she placed her hand into the older woman's.

"Siobhan McCourt, this is Trixie Belden. She's a senior too, Ma. She missed the late bus and I'm giving her a ride home. " Siobhan's smile grew even wider. _Trixie Belden_, huh? While they each murmured the usual pleasantries to each other, Siobhan took stock of the girl who captured her son's attention.

What she saw was a gorgeous blonde sprite, vibrating with energy. Her china blue eyes were sparkling with humor and the joy of living. She was wearing a pair of jeans with some plain leather sandals and a simple cotton t shirt. Not an ounce of makeup was plastered on her clear, glowing complexion. Props to her son for his choice in women. There was obviously nothing artificial about this girl.

"Are you having trouble with the laptop again, Ma?" Aidan interrupted his mother's silent perusal of Trixie. "Yes, it's the bane of my existence!" she exclaimed in her musical, Irish brogue. "I don't have any packages ready to ship because I believe this computer is possessed of the devil!"

Trixie glanced over at the error message. "Oh, Mrs. McCourt. I know how to fix this! May I?" At Siobhan's nod, Trixie seated herself at the office desk. She explained to both McCourts that she often encountered the same error and knew the cause. "Impatience!" she smiled. With a few clicks of the mouse, she cleared the error and the laptop was exorcised of its demons. "My b…friend Jim told me I can't wait for the computer to finish what it's doing because I am too impatient. I keep clicking the mouse, and end up stalling the system."

"You know, you're right, Trixie. When it doesn't do something right away, I just keep clicking and clicking." Siobhan then asked Trixie to instruct her how to clear the error, and the two women smiled at each other in perfect harmony.

Aidan watched the byplay between his mother and the woman he hoped to make his girlfriend in the next few weeks, and his sexy mouth tilted up at the corners. He fixed his grey-green gaze on those long, spiraling curls that he so wanted to touch. He shoved his hands in his pockets before his itching fingers crept there of their own accord. Another hurdle overcome – his mom liked Trixie. In fact, she liked her so well she was inviting Trixie to dinner.

"Thank you so much," Trixie was declining with a smile. "But I promised Moms – that's my mother – I would help my younger brother Bobby with his homework. Dangling participles and all that."

"Some other time then," Siobhan inserted smoothly. "No orders today, Aidan, but tons tomorrow since the demon machine is fixed."

"Ok. Trix, come on and I'll get you home." Siobhan leaned against the outside door frame, waving to both her son and the woman who apparently was replacing her as Number One in her son's heart. She sighed; it was a bit bittersweet after losing Kaitlin so abruptly. Now Aidan too, was showing _he _was ready to fly. She just wasn't sure _she_ was ready for all of this.

Trixie pointed out Mr. Lytell's store to Aidan as they drove past. It was, in fact, closer to his house then the UPS Store in town, and he mentally filed away the information to share with his mother. Maybe she could set up an account with him. It would certainly save a lot of time. _And it was closer to Trixie's_.

A few minutes later, Trixie was directing him to turn into the driveway of a sprawling white farmhouse, surrounded by what seemed to be acres of orchards. Colorful early spring flowers spilled from pots hanging on the wrap-around porch; they also lined the driveways and walkways. An expertly crafted wooden sign hanging from the mailbox at the street announced their destination as Crabapple Farm.

"Would you like to come in for a drink and to meet Moms?" Trixie inquired. Even with stopping for a while at his house, she still beat the bus home. While Aidan wasn't thirsty at all, he really did want to meet her mother and scope out her house; he found himself trailing after her through the back door into a small mudroom and then into the large, homey kitchen with the most tantalizing aromas wafting through it.

"Moms! I'm home!" Helen Belden pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and admonished Bobby to continue working on his homework until Trixie could help. She left her youngest in the den with the remote control well out of reach and was surprised that Trixie was not alone. Not only was she not alone, she was with a very handsome boy who was gazing at her daughter in much the same way she knew _another_ redheaded boy looked at Trixie.

Totally besotted. Well. This was interesting, Helen mused. Trixie made the requisite introductions and Helen found herself captivated by Aidan's charm, wit and really, dangerously sexy aura. She actually found herself smoothing her hair again and feeling a bit…girlish.

Oh my. Helen scrubbed a slender hand over her lips. Trixie didn't stand a chance if he set his sights on her. Hell, look at her own reaction, and she was Trixie's mother! As she watched her rather naïve daughter walk Aidan out to his truck and scribble a note, probably her cell phone number, Helen decided a telephone call to Maddy Wheeler was in order. _Someone _had to light a fire under Jim's butt, and real soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Competition Chapter 5

James Winthrop Frayne II drummed his fingers along the worn Formica tabletop in the little Italian restaurant known colloquially as Luca's. Outside, New York City rushed by at its breakneck, never-sleeping pace; inside Luca's, it was all red and gold; Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Tony Bennett at the vocals and autographed pictures of local stars – like John Gotti.

There was nothing like an Italian restaurant in Manhattan, unless it was an Italian restaurant in Brooklyn. Since the owners of Lucabelli's were Brooklyn refugees, well, it saved a trip across the Brooklyn Bridge and into the outer boroughs. Manhattanites really only considered the island of Manhattan as the _real_ New York City. The rest of the boroughs were simply an embarrassment to be endured, though not quite as bad as New Jersey.

Since the boys were quite frequent diners at Luca's (not to mention that the man sitting at the table was one of the heirs to the Wheeler fortune), Jim asked for and received the most private of tables on the busiest of nights. Carmine Lucabelli glanced over there once or twice – the tall redhead was quite fidgety and kept checking his watch repeatedly. Jim was not his usual easygoing self, nor was he accompanied by one or more of his roommates. Carmine wondered if Jim had a date; it might just be because the guy _never_ brought a girl to the restaurant, and he was obviously full of nerves. Danny, on the other hand, was a regular Casanova.

A tall, slender woman with hair the color of caramels and honey breezed in, looked around and spotted Jim. Ah, it _is_ a woman, Carmine thought, and a beautiful one at that. His sister. She dined at their little place every so often; several times with her parents and Jim. He watched her closely as she slid into opposite side of the red leather booth.

They both looked rather serious.

Unaware of the interested scrutiny of the owner, Honey apologized for her tardiness. "Sorry Jim, the crosstown traffic was a bear." She looked closely at her brother. He appeared tired and a little pale. "Did you order for us?"

Jim nodded. This whole talk thing, combined with the excruciatingly erotic dreams he was currently experiencing and the sleeplessness engendered by them, coupled with the specter of some guy making a play for Trixie was wearing on his last nerve. He began drawing little circles on the tabletop, and waited for Honey to begin. He certainly was not going to initiate this painful and rather embarrassing conversation.

Well, here they were, brother and sister, and she had not a clue how to begin. There was certainly the ick factor when trying to discuss one's love life with a close relation. Adopted or not, Honey always considered Jim her brother; and Trixie was the sister of her heart. "Umm. I sent you the pictures of Aidan McCourt," she began, nervously twisting her fingers under the table.

"When did Trixie get her belly button pierced?" His emerald eyes widened in astonishment at what was coming out of his mouth. Honey's eyebrows snapped together and her own topaz gaze reflected absolute shock at Jim's question. "W-When did you," she stopped. Of course. She must have included the picture from last summer when she sent Jim the email. Oh my. She and Trix would never get their P.I. license now. Trixie would have killed her long before then.

There was nothing to do but brazen it out. And hope that Mr. Honorable would be honorable enough not to mention it to Trixie. "We were going to get matching tattoos. Me, Di and Trix. Of course Di and I chickened out the moment we saw that biker dude faint. Trixie decided to get her piercing then. It was right before Mart's prom." She sighed heavily. "I wasn't supposed to show you that picture. Ever. I promised."

Jim began his interrogation rather than the other way around, smiling secretly. He had the upper hand now. If he could just deflect his sister enough…"Why not, Honey? Is she ashamed of it?"

"Of course not. If you haven't noticed, _Jim_, she's not in her normal swimming attire. None of us were," she added in a quiet voice.

"So, you mean to tell me you girls hang around the Manor House pool in skimpy bikinis when we aren't there?" He really should stop this line of questioning. It was not healthy for his blood pressure. It would not help him sleep better at night. Unfortunately, his mouth was moving faster than his brain.

Honey skimmed one slender finger over the chrome of the napkin dispenser, and looked Jim straight in the eye. "Well, yes. How else do you think we get those light tans without strap lines? And with just us girls there, we don't have to worry if we have a wardrobe malfunction."

Jim did not need this information. It was bad enough his dreams were haunted by china blue eyes and that luscious body so provocatively displayed in that damn photo. Before, he just used his imagination. Now that he saw all that bare skin in real life, and with Honey's words about wardrobe malfunctions, he'll be able to add pictures of that skimpy little top floating on top of the blue water in the pool as she turned around slowly…

He was startled out of his reverie as the waiter placed the salads on the table and informed them their entrees would be up shortly. Honey, sensing an advantage, went on the offensive. She wasn't about to make this conversation about Trixie's belly button. There were much more important topics to discuss.

"Jim, I need to know what your intentions are toward Trixie." She leveled her topaz gaze and met the shock in his emerald one. There. She said it, as baldly as possible.

Honey's question caught him so off guard, he could do nothing less than bark out a laugh. "Isn't that a question _Mr. Belden_ is supposed to ask me?" He tried mightily to diffuse this whole ridiculous situation with a small attempt at humor. A very small attempt that did nothing to deter Honey at all.

"Let me tell you what I think." She held up her hand to silence him when it appeared he was going to make an objection. "I know you asked Trixie to _our_ prom the night you took her to _yours_." Jim was not even making a pretense of eating his salad, and neither was Honey. "I'm just not sure _why_. You never followed up with another date. Never came home to take her to Homecoming, the Winter Festival or the Spring Fling. I think you feel _something_ for her. I'm just not sure what." She shoveled some lettuce into her mouth, just to give her hands something to do. It tasted as dry as the Sahara desert.

"Honey, I really think that this is something that _Trixie and I_ should discuss," Jim began slowly, when his sister, his tactful, calm and collected sister threw her fork on the table and watched as it bounced onto the floor.

"If you actually discussed it with her!" Honey's voice was a sibilant hiss, and there was thunder on her face. "Let me apprise you of a few facts, my dear brother. When you were in high school, you made it damn well known that Trixie was your special girl."

Jim interrupted. "I never said anything to anyone!"

"No, of course not. Why say the _words_ when a _bracelet _says them for you? It was in the way you glared at any guy who came near her – Dan included. After marking your territory so to speak – you did everything but pee around her- you go blithely away to college, and resume fond glances and innocent touches the rare times you _are_ home. Meanwhile, Trixie, your _special_ girl, is suffering almost three long years of high school without a date."

Jim was astounded by Honey's revelation. His green eyes widened in shock, and his mouth opened but nothing came out. "That's right. No guy in his right mind would ask out Jim Frayne's special girl – or _Tomboy Trixie_. You know that's what they still call her. And if it's not that, they most definitely received your message about not messing with your special girl. There's an old saying, sweet sixteen and never been kissed, well, try almost eighteen and never been kissed."

"She never said…you and Di never told," he squeaked out, utterly floored. What Honey was telling him could not possibly be true. There was just no way someone as effervescent and as beautiful as Trixie spent almost three years _alone_. Their waiter discreetly placed another fork on the table, scooted away and sighed. Domestic disputes never resulted in a good tip.

Honey cupped her chin in her hand as she leaned her elbow on the table. "Really, Jim. What were we supposed to say to you? 'By the way, Jim, could you take Trixie out on a pity date?' Or maybe we could ask you to publish a notice in the Sleepyside Sun that it was okay to date her in a _friendly_ way? And to be fair, neither Brian, Mart nor Dan took notice of this either. Instead," Honey caught a breath that sounded more like a quiet sob, "She did without and let her self-esteem take another big hit. It's been difficult for her. After all, Di has Mart and I have Brian and Trixie has…a bracelet in a jewelry box. You know she can never, ever believe she's remotely attractive. When she looks in the mirror, she sees a 13 year old girl with loads of freckles, no figure to speak of, and an unruly mass of hair. When the guys at school look at her, I think they see the same thing."

Jim was scrubbing at his face with his hands. "I never…I wanted her to experience high school," he mumbled miserably. "I knew I would be carrying a heavy workload with a double major, and it would be difficult to get home. I thought she would, you know, go out on group dates with you and Di and some friends like Tad and Nick Roberts."

"Jim, even _you_ should be aware that I am dating Brian, have been for over a year, and Mart and Di have been together since time immemorial. I really don't think Brian would appreciate me going out with another guy, even in a group setting. He isn't _that_ honorable. What was she supposed to be doing when I was out with Brian or Di with Mart? Tag along? Oh what fun that would be for her! And you being so honorable and Mr. Perfect all over the place – what if she had fallen in love with Tad or Nick? Then what would you do? Jim, you _ignored _her needs to focus on your own! Gleeps, you men are so thick!" Honey leaned right over the table and poked her index finger into Jim's chest. "Let me tell you something. Aidan McCourt is handsome, charming, has a really sexy smile _and_ has Trixie dead in his sights. And he's a redhead! You know about Trixie and redheaded guys. After all, you are one. He's going to turn all that delicious charm on a girl who never even had a proper kiss! So I ask you again, what are your intentions toward Trixie? Because it's really not fair if you think of her as a friend, and your inaction is preventing her from developing a real relationship."

Jim was holding onto the famous Frayne temper by the slimmest of threads. He certainly did not need Honey poking him in the chest, or lecturing him on his feelings for Trixie. It was made worse because everything she said was true. "What do you want me to say, Honey?" he ground out furiously. "Do you want me to tell you that I fell for her when she was a 13 year old spitfire in my uncle's crumbling mansion? That every night I spent in that disgusting heap after I met you both, trying to sleep on that lumpy mattress, I wished she was there beside me? Do you know how perverted that made me feel? That I desired, for all intents and purposes, a young girl who was still really just a child? That I wanted to beat the sh…crap out of Ben Riker when she pretended to have a crush on him?" he looked down at his strong, slender fingers, now bunched in a fist, and made the effort to straighten them out. "Do you want to know how much I want her, how many sleepless nights I have fantasizing about her? About our future?" He clamped his jaws shut as their hapless waiter removed the barely touched salads and placed the pasta primavera and breadsticks on the table. He had already revealed too much.

Amazingly enough, Honey sat back and smiled at him. At least she knew exactly where he stood now. Maybe sending that picture wasn't such a bad thing after all. "Jim, for your information, we were _all_ children then. You included. Children with raging hormones. It's perfectly normal. It's not perverted at all, Loretta Lynn got married and had kids when she was 13." Honey cupped her mouth and stage-whispered to him. "When I was 13, I would have gladly let Brian get to first or second base, if he wanted to." Of course _Mr. Honorable_ would latch on to something he thought he should be ashamed of.

"No, Honey. _You and Trix_ were young girls. By the time I met you, I lived a lifetime." Jim rarely spoke about his life after the death of his mother and the few years he spent with his abusive stepfather. "She…Trixie, she was like this golden light. She gave me hope. Oh God, how I prayed that your family would adopt me. I certainly didn't want to be her _brother_. When I was fifteen years old and she was thirteen, I knew she was the one," he finished, his voice a soft murmur. "When I left after Ten Acres burned, I felt like my parents died all over again." Jim looked down at the pasta rapidly cooling on his plate, took a forkful and chewed thoughtfully.

In a strange way, it was cathartic to admit to his sister that he was in love with her best friend. Taking her cue from Jim, Honey also began to eat, wanting to give them each some time to digest all the emotional revelations in the few minutes they were together. They silently picked at their dinners, as Honey occasionally glanced up at her brother. She could almost see the lightning fast circuits in his computer-like brain putting two and two together and finally getting four. Sometimes life wasn't a calculus problem, but just simple addition.

Jim actually was reviewing his big plan. It should have worked. He plotted it out enough times, thought he considered all the angles. When he took her to prom this time, he was going to…it then hit him like a ton of bricks. Do what? Say, gee Trix, I love you madly, sorry I haven't been there for you. Sorry you spent your high school years alone. Sorry I never noticed.

Jim was stunned by the realization that he hurt the person he loved most in this world by his actions, or lack thereof. He put his fork down as the red flush smeared across his face. He couldn't eat another thing; he just wanted out of there to go to his room and lick his wounds.

Honey watched the emotions play across her brother's face. She was no longer hungry either, and motioned for their waiter. "Could you please wrap these up," she asked sweetly, and slipped her credit card to him.

She reached across the table and took Jim's large freckled hands in her own. How strong they were, yet such a delicate touch, she mused. A bag appeared on the table, along with the receipt and her card, yet neither noticed.

Her voice was very quiet when she finally addressed him. "Jim. Trixie's not 13 any more. She's a woman with the same wants, needs and desires as any woman – or man for that matter. You have to stop treating her that way. She doesn't need another brother. She needs someone to be there for her when she's down and celebrate with her when she has a success. She needs," Honey paused, and took a deep breath, "Someone who is willing to step up and be everything to her. She is an amazing gift to a lucky man. " Jim looked into Honey's eyes, his emerald gaze troubled, and saw the truth there.

"There's no way I can get home the next few weeks," he muttered.

Honey gave a pat to Jim's hands. "There is a new device called the telephone. Try and use it sometimes. Otherwise," she warned, "I'm sure Aidan will."


	6. Chapter 6

Competition Chapter 6

Trixie was picking her way along the bridle trail slowly with Susie, alone with her thoughts. With the boys all away at school, Honey in the City for the weekend and Diana stuck with babysitting duties, the pretty spring day did nothing to chase away the blues.

Everything was changing, yet nothing was changing. It was difficult at best for the seven of them to get together lately; but when they did, it was as if they never parted. They were still the Bob-Whites of the Glen, but with a twist. Four of them paired off into couples; Dan was apparently cutting a wide swath through the women of Manhattan and Jim? Well, Jim was the enigma.

Trixie rode over to the bluffs and slid off Susie, throwing the reins over a small bush. She stared down at the Hudson River, so powerful, majestic and so very deadly. It hid its secrets well under that glass-like expanse of water. She walked back to Susie and sat on a nearby boulder, holding the reins and slipping them through her fingers, folding the supple leather back and forth repeatedly.

Jim was full of secrets like the river, she thought. On the surface he was just so calm and in control, but at times she saw something flash in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking at him. Something that thrilled her to her very core and made her skin so very, very hot and made her _want_.

Her mind drifted back to his prom. He actually asked her to go with him. She was so sure this was going to be the start of their romantic relationship. She actually got all girly about it, her, Trixie Belden! She and Moms spent hours searching for the right dress, and finally ended up in White Plains in a vintage shop.

It turned out to be a 1930's bias-cut black satin gown with a sheer tulle overdress in a modified mermaid style. The gown's spaghetti straps and modest front were covered by the tulle overdress, it dipped down to mid-back, with six rhinestone buttons marching down to the top of her butt. The sheer tulle in the back that passed as straps allowed even more skin to peek through. It showed her hourglass figure to perfection. It was a bargain too: Moms did a few alterations where the tulle was a bit worn and it looked almost as good as new.

She felt so…sexy and wanton in it. Jim's quick intake of breath and slow flush when he saw her in it were testament to the fact she cleaned up pretty nice. At the prom, when they danced, his palm burned against her bare back, her breath hitching when he unconsciously stroked the soft skin revealed. It made her so very, very weak-kneed, soft and yielding. All she could remember was Jim's hard body pressed up against hers and every so often, his full lips ghosting through her curls.

And then…then he took her home after the prom ended, walked her to the door of Crabapple Farm, kissed her softly on the cheek, tugged his curl, thanked her for a great time and disappeared into the car.

Her fingers went up to the spot where he kissed her; even after all these years it still burned. _She_ still burned, for him. Lately though, it was getting harder and harder for her to continue hoping that she remained his special girl. She kicked at the ground with the toe of her sneaker, and sighed.

"I wish I knew, Susie," she spoke to her mount, and the little mare pricked up her ears. "I'm not really good at all this emotional stuff like Honey and Di. They have Brian and Mart wrapped around their little fingers. Jim's at college with all those older, beautiful college girls. What would he want with a country mouse like me?" Susie nickered in agreement.

Riding back to the stable, Trixie was startled when her cell phone began to vibrate. Unclipping it from her waistband, she saw the unfamiliar number and debated whether to answer. In the end, she did.

Aidan's deep warm voice greeted her. "Hi Trixie, it's Aidan. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time. I just wanted to firm up the dates and time for our tutoring sessions."

Although she was alone with the mare, Trixie could feel the soft flush spreading across her face. "Oh, I'm just exercising one of the Wheelers' horses, taking a slow ride through the preserve."

"Preserve?"

"Honey's dad – you know, Honey Wheeler, my best friend, you were introduced to her by Tad – her dad is one of the richest men in the country and bought tons of acreage around the Manor House for years and years for a wildlife preserve. He started out with about 300 acres and now owns probably several thousand acres."

Aidan was stunned at the amount of land, and the fact that this quiet little town was home to two of the country's richest men. "Wow! You could almost make a National Park there!"

Trixie agreed. She went on to explain that Mr. Wheeler was concerned about urban sprawl, and wanted to have this legacy for his children and grandchildren. Although Mr. Maypenny was still the head gamekeeper, Mr. Wheeler had also added a couple of retired park rangers part-time in order to reduce the elderly man's workload now that Dan was in college.

"Um, so about the tutoring," Aidan returned to the subject he called about. He was positive he could win over Honey and Di in time. He just needed to whisk Trixie away for a bit.

_Divide and conquer._

"How about if we meet in the math lab after school on Monday? I can bring you some examples of where I'm having a bit of trouble, and we can go from there?"

"Okay." Then, very deliberately: "It's a date, Ms. Belden."

_Keep your objective guessing. Catch her off guard. _

Trixie inhaled sharply and replied. "See you then." She flipped her phone closed and re-clipped it to her waistband. A date. Not a _real _one of course. But it was nice having a man say it's a date like he _really_ meant it.

As Susie and Trixie ambled their way back to the stable, Trixie again felt the vibration of her phone. Without looking at the number, she simply answered.

"Hi Trix," came a well-loved, husky voice.

"Jim!" she breathed, the tingling starting down around her toes and working its way up. Just then her brain took over from her treacherous body. Jim didn't call her all that often. She frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Ah, no Trix. It's just…just we haven't talked for a while," Jim fumbled. The fact that she was surprised by his call only underlined the conversation with his sister yesterday.

"Oh, I know you're really busy with college and all," Trixie quietly informed him. "I don't want to bother you with a lot of unnecessary phone calls."

Why didn't she just pull out a dagger and stab him right in the heart? Didn't she know that he would make the time for her, any day of the week, any hour of the day? The small voice in the back of his head replied sarcastically – _yeah, like you've made so much time for her over the past several years?_

Right then and there, the full realization of his blissful ignorance sideswiped him. _She didn't want to bother him. Holy hell, she did not want to _bother _him. She honestly believed that a simple contact like a phone call would be a _bother_._

"You could never, ever bother me, Trix. How are things going?" He sounded so stilted and so unlike himself, Trixie actually pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. "Hello, Trix?"

"I'm here Jim. Ummm. I'm riding back to the stable from the preserve, exercising Susie. Regan and Miss Trask had Jupe and Lady out this morning. Tomorrow Di and I are going to take out Starlight and Strawberry."

"You went out _alone_? Since when did Regan…"Jim stopped himself from giving her a lecture about safety. If Regan allowed her to ride solo, who was he to countermand that? It's not like she snuck the horse out of the barn, he reasoned. It was time to stop treating her like a little girl, like Honey said. That photo he secreted in his nightstand certainly proved _that_.

"Well, we're spread pretty thin here without all you guys back here to help."

"How's things at school?" Would she tell him about the new guy?

"Oh! We have a new student, Aidan McCourt. He's very nice. He's a senior. And I still suck at Trig, I'm bit worried about finals," she sighed. "Chris Morgan was supposed to be tutoring me and not fooling around with the color guard, but I guess the pom-poms win over isosceles triangles."

"I wish I could help you," Jim stated wistfully. "You'll have to ask for a different tutor."

"Oh, that's no problem; I already have one lined up! Aidan is going to be tutoring me; he's a real brain in math, just like you, Jim. He offered this afternoon when he drove me home."

Jim stiffened and his long fingers fisted around the cell phone as Trixie chattered on, unaware of the effect her words were having on him. "I missed the late bus because of Chris not showing and me waiting so long and barreled into Aidan as I was running for the bus. Gleeps, it was embarrassing! I landed right on my butt. Anyway, he offered to drive me home because I promised Moms I would help Bobby with his homework. Even though we stopped at his house for a minute – I met his mom there, she's really nice, I still made it home before the bus."

Jim exploded. "Geez, Trix, don't you know better than to get in a car with a strange guy? God, anything could have happened to you!" What was _wrong _with her? Leave her alone for a second and she's putting herself in all kinds of danger.

Her own temper flared. Why did he have to lecture her all the time? She isn't a kid anymore. He isn't _that_ much older than her. She rolled her eyes as a dark flush began to spread across her face. If they were talking face to face, Jim would have immediately noticed the red flags of annoyance staining her cheeks as the precursor to an eruption her volatile temper.

"Gleeps, Jim, he's a student at our school! He was just being nice. Next time I accept a ride from one of our schoolmates, I'll call Chief Molinson for a background check and I'll make sure my will is updated."

Unable to sit any longer, Jim paced his bedroom, running one hand through his red locks. "Trixie Belden. You of _all _people should know that most crimes are committed by people one is acquainted with. You just said he's new there. What if he was taking you to his house to…to…" Jim could not bring himself to say the words, although right now he was imagining them with great, disgusting detail.

"To what, Jim? Oh yeah, he not only offered to tutor me in math and the sensual arts, but he wanted to show me his opium den, get me hooked and sell me into white slavery." She was flippant, but there _was_ a slight grain of truth to what Jim said. What if his mother wasn't home? He seemed nice enough, but he was a lot bigger than she was. She felt a slight chill for her lapse in judgment, and her temper ratcheted down a notch. "He was just being kind, Jim. You know guys don't…don't think of me that way." The last few words were said in a whispered rush.

He was in a furious, jealous haze. Whoever said jealousy was green needed to have their vision checked. It was certainly extremely _red_. The shamed way she hastily admitted she lacked that certain something to attract the opposite sex shot completely over his head. _She actually went to some guy's house._ Alone. A guy that was looking at her like he'd like to do all the delicious things to her that _he _wanted to do. A guy that was in close proximity to her while he was stuck miles away. He was in full Jim lecture mode now, even though a very small voice was softly advising him to back off before things escalated. "You need to think, Trixie, before you end up in real trouble and I'm not there to bail you out anymore."

As soon as those ill-advised words crawled out of his mouth and fluttered into the air, he wanted to take them back. He scrubbed his hand across his face, ashamed that his temper got the best of him; ashamed of the way he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, and heard nothing but a loud gasp from the other side, a few electronic chirps; and the dead silence of a disconnected call.

_Trixie hung up on him_. Well, it was nothing more than he deserved, he thought glumly. _Everything was going so wrong._ He was stuck at school the next few weekends; some guy was making an obvious play for Trixie and she seemed to be receptive; his sister pointed out what an ass he was; and now his lousy temper reared and he insulted his special girl, pushing her even further away. He sat down on his bed, and in a rare display of the famous Frayne temper _totally_ out of control, threw his cell phone against the door with all his might. He watched with no satisfaction as it splintered into numerous pieces. Just like his heart.

On the other side of the door, Dan Mangan stopped and stared at Jim's door. Dan was worried. For the past few days, Jim rushed home from class and locked himself in his room, rarely coming out except to eat something. Even then he was uncommunicative and sullen.

"Jim? Everything okay in there?"

_Great. Just great_. Jim picked up the pieces of what used to be his cell phone and opened the door. Taking a deep, calming breath he faced the quizzical face of Dan Mangan.

"Had a bit of a temper tantrum?" Dan saw the remains of the poor phone clutched in Jim's hand and the cold fury in Jim's turbulent emerald eyes. He hadn't seen Jim like that since Matt Wheeler was thinking of selling a few acres of the game preserve for a factory a few years back.

Jim closed his eyes. "Yeah. I kind of lost my temper there, Dan. You know." Now he would be making a trip to the nearest cell phone retailer to replace it, more wasted time. Dan looked at the utter misery in Jim's stormy green eyes and decided to take the high road.

"Why don't I put the remains of your late, lamented cell into a bag and we'll take a walk to City Cell? I need to pay my bill." Something big occurred for Jim to react like that. He simply was not the sort of person to be annihilating inanimate objects in a fit of temper. Now, _Trixie _ was a different story…

A light bulb flashed suddenly in Dan's head. The only person who could cause a reaction like that in Jim was the beautiful blonde bombshell in the hollow. Dan figured she must be getting involved in another mystery. It was a while since Trixie embroiled them in another crazy adventure.

Jim looked at Dan, standing there with his hand out. Sighing, Jim decided he needed the distraction right now. He put the remains in Dan's hand and went to grab his wallet. The two men left the building in perfect accord; Jim, mulling over the latest imbroglio and Dan, biding his time until he could interrogate Jim in the way only a fellow Bob-White could.

They never noticed the door to the girls' apartment was ajar, and the booming voice of Matthew Wheeler echoed in the empty space. "I need to make a few adjustments to the blueprints," he spoke decisively to the architect, who was looking at him in utter panic. Matt's instincts, almost never wrong, told him something momentous was about to occur. Being the visionary businessman he was, he was going to meet the future head-on and fully prepared.

A/N: Wow 6 Chapters! Thank you to my friend and editor Mylee for her suggestions and help!


	7. Chapter 7

Competition Chapter 7

Dan Mangan was a fairly tall guy, in good shape. He was, however, having quite a bit of trouble keeping up with the longer, angry legs of Jim Frayne. He was getting pretty tired of seeing the back of Jim's redhead as Jim strode through the typical crowds of Saturday shoppers. It was time to take a stand.

"Frayne!" he boomed out, legs planted firmly on the sidewalk and arms akimbo. Jim stopped short and turned around to see an aggrieved shopper advise Dan to do something anatomically impossible as he blocked foot traffic.

Jim _almost_ smiled.

"Look man, whatever happened to get your panties in a bunch, ya gotta slow down! I didn't run cross-country in school." Pressing a hand to his midriff, Dan pretended to gulp great draughts of air. His nimble mind was reasoning out the cause for the agitation affecting Jim. It always only came back to one word: Trixie Belden. Well, ok, that was two, but it just had to be.

"Sorry, Dan." Jim resumed a more normal pace. He seemed to be thinking or saying that word, sorry, quite frequently lately. What he really wanted to do was punch something until his knuckles bled. There was all this…stuff…crazily charging through his system and no outlet. If he could just go back to Sleepyside and find this Ian jerk and …

Dan grabbed his arm. "Jim. Where are you? You're walking right by City Cell." Dan shook his head as they entered the store. It was going to take a while after Jim purchased a new phone for the salespeople to get it programmed and hopefully transfer the numbers and other personal information from the remains of the old one. While Jim was making a careful selection, Dan paid his bill and planned. He was determined to find out just what was going on.

"Thanks, Mr. Frayne," said the perky salesgirl. She had been trying to flirt with the tall, handsome redhead for the last 30 minutes, but he was not receptive at all. "It'll be about an hour and a half for the techs to see if they can, uh, salvage anything from your old phone." She held up the crinkled bag and shook it. A broad, white smile, which turned into a grimace as Dan pulled him away. All the good ones were either married or gay!

"Hey Dan, can I use your phone?" Jim was walking with Dan, had no idea where they were going. "I need to call the Center to cancel today."

Well, a little bargaining here couldn't hurt, Dan mused. He knew an opening when he saw it. He held out his phone and snatched it away before Jim could take it from his hand. "One condition," he muttered.

"And what's that?" Jim briefly closed his eyes and frowned. He knew exactly what condition Dan was going to impose. They walked about a block from City Cell, and Dan grandly gestured to the benches lining the pocket park. The City was unexpectedly full of these micro courtyards or parks that existed between the skyscrapers, ostensibly to provide harried New Yorkers with some semblance there was something out there other than concrete and glass.

"You're going to tell me what's going on." Dan sat, still holding his phone, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Jim snorted. "What are we, girls?" It was a last ditch effort to avoid talking. Appeal to Dan's man code. Yep. That was it.

Dan's lips tilted up at the corners. "Speak for yourself, Susie. Do you want the phone or not?" Reluctantly, Jim extended his hand and took the cell. He hated cancelling on the Center; it was good experience working with underprivileged kids and also was a portion of this semester's grades. With the state of his emotions and depression weighing heavily on his lanky frame, he wouldn't be much help there today anyway.

He snapped the phone shut, handed it back, and sprawled next to Dan, studying at the leaves on the tree across from them as if they were some new, exotic form of life that he never saw before. Dan jumped right in. "So, what's wrong with Trixie now?"

Jim turned his astonished green gaze on Dan's face. Dan picked at his sweater, concentrating on the little lint balls. "It's not that hard to deduce, Jim. Trixie is just about the only one that can get you into this sort of state."

"Trixie hung up on me." It was Dan's turn to glance sharply up at Jim in utter amazement. Trixie? Hung up on _Jim_? Dan idly wondered what temperature it was in hell, and if it was freezing over.

"Ummm, that's just a little out of character for our Trix. Is there a _reason_ why she hung up on you?" Dan just could not visualize this, and he had a damn good imagination. Disconnected due to the vagaries of cell phone service in the mountains, yes; Trixie being kidnapped by a wild band of roving gypsies, yes; even Godzilla rising up and out of the Hudson to wreak havoc in Sleepyside but Trixie hanging up on Jim? No way. He sat back and waited for the story. It was going to be a much more interesting 90 minutes than he expected.

Jim scrubbed at his face with his hands, and prayed for deliverance from interfering sisters and nosy friends. He just had this conversation yesterday. He neither wanted to rehash it with his friend or even talk at all about it. He wanted action.

"There's…there's a new guy at the high school," he began reluctantly. "Eddie or Ian something or another. Apparently he's God's gift to the senior class girls." Jim spat out the words. Dan glanced at Jim's hands, which were now fisted at his sides. Ok, new guy at high school. Check. He had an inkling where this was going. Jim was never good at hiding his emotions where Trixie was concerned.

"Well, he's blowing them all off. All of them, even Di."

"Except for Trixie," Dan added helpfully.

"Yeah. Except for Trixie." Jim took a deep breath; blew it out again. "Honey really let me have it yesterday at dinner."

"So this Ian or whatever is making a play for Trixie. She'll certainly shut him down fast." Trix wasn't the type of woman to play games to make Jim jealous, of that Dan _was_ certain.

"And why do you think Trixie would shut him down?" Jim really wanted to know what Dan thought. Jim certainly had Honey's opinion; her words were forever branded in his brain. Maybe it was just some female point of view. It was possible.

"God, Jim, everyone in the State of New York knows that Trixie is your girl. I even think blind Martians on the moon know it." There was just a brief blip in time when Dan entertained the thought of asking Trix out. She was beautiful, fun and energetic, adventuresome – and he would have been dead by nightfall, buried somewhere in the preserve, never to be found. Jim Frayne would have certainly seen to that. He saw the way just a frown from him scattered any of Trixie's would be admirers. Jim was obviously the possessive type. But only about _her_.

Jim jammed his long fingers into his front pockets. "Trixie is not exactly…ah, not noticing that he is interested in her. He already maneuvered things so he's tutoring her in Trig. He got her out to his house, alone, and she met his mom," Jim ground out.

"Honey told you all this?"

"No, Trixie did. I called her, and damn it Dan, she was surprised to hear from me. Surprised! She told me right up front about him and the house and I just lost my temper." He gave Dan a rueful glance. "Went into full lecture mode – how can she go home with a guy she barely knew, yadda yadda." Jim took a deep breath, because the worst was yet to be revealed. "I finished up by telling her she was going to get into trouble and I wouldn't be around to bail her out as usual."

Dan winced. No wonder Trix hung up. Although, he mused, that was a much more conservative reaction that the usual atomic temper bombs Trixie dropped. Our girl was growing up. "Is this what Honey wanted to tell you?"

"No, I don't even think she knows Trix went over to whatsisname's house on Friday because she left school early to come into the City with our parents. She's…she's trying to be a good sister and warning me about everything. She's rather protective of Trixie too, in case you haven't noticed," Jim noted wryly.

"Yeah, I noticed that about those two."

"Honey read me the riot act about how I've been taking Trix for granted." Jim felt a slow, red flush smear itself across his face. "She…I thought by taking extra courses and having the double major, I could get on with life faster. I knew I couldn't be back there to take her to every dance. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that she would, you know, just go out with a group of friends and have fun while I was slaving away here at college."

"Isn't that what she did?" Dan demanded. He didn't like where this was going. Not one bit.

"No. She…Trixie hasn't gone out, all through high school. According to what Honey thinks, all the guys either see her as belonging to me or still view her as being Tomboy Trixie."

Dan ran an agitated hand through his thick, dark hair. "I can't believe that. Trix would have said something. Or Brian or Mart." That was impossible. Their irrepressible co-president was alone?

Jim tipped his head back to the sky. White puffy clouds lazily slipped by in a sky so blue it almost hurt. "Ya think so? I guess they are so wrapped up in their own lives, they never noticed. Like us. Like me."

The two men sat quietly. Jim was still rather shell-shocked by the past 24 hours' unfolding events. Dan, on the other hand, was digesting all Jim reluctantly imparted, and fitting it in to his perceptions about two people he loved and respected. He watched the people walking by; some in a hurry, chattering non-stop on their cell phones; tourists always looking up and hands full of camcorders or cameras; native Manhattanites walking their teacup size pooches with plastic bags at the ready.

"You know," he began slowly, his words dropping into the stillness between the two men, "At Cop College we have to take psychology courses." He always referred to John Jay College of Criminal Justice as Cop College. It seemed less pretentious that way.

"Oh, please, spare me the nickel analysis," Jim snorted.

Dan's lips tilted up at the corners. "Well, what are fellow Bob-Whites for, except to provide nickel analyses? Beats having to pay a shrink $250.00 an hour." Dan settled himself on the bench, glaring at a couple of pigeons who dared invade their privacy.

"You and I are a lot alike, Jim. Similar experiences, you know? Parents dying young, abuse. Although with you it was Jonesy, with me…well, we won't talk about that here. When…when my mother died I was so angry with her. I actually hated her. Here I was in the big city of New York," he swept his arm in a great arc, "Cool, huh? But we both know being alone isn't that cool. I bet you were like me when your mom was sick. I prayed and bargained with God, the devil; hell, if Satan himself appeared on my doorstep, I would gladly have sold my soul for just one more day with her. But she died, and I thought, what the hell, there must not be a God if he took my mom away and left me here all alone. And the gang, they made me feel like I belonged, like they were my family. So I went over to the dark side, Jim. Now you, you had a father who adored you and who you adored and he died. How you must have hated your mom when she married Jonesy shortly after! It burned in your gut, didn't it Jim?"

Jim paled and nodded his head, mesmerized by Dan's long speech. "Then she became ill, and you thought it was all your fault. All your fault because you couldn't get along with that bastard. All your fault because of all the terrible thoughts you had about her. All your fault that she was dying. So to compensate for being a bad boy, you knew you had to excel at everything: schoolwork, helping on the truck farm; pretending you liked him. No room for dark thoughts now! It had to be good and light and just maybe the heavens would take pity on you…."

"You know, you could have killed him after she died, Jim. It would have been easy enough. A fire in the house; a shotgun blast to the head; a slip down the stairs. But you didn't. I probably would have. I'm not proud of a lot of the things I did before I came to Sleepyside."

"So what does all this have to do with Trixie?" Jim, for the life of him, could not see the point. Maybe Dan was right about a lot of things. But, Jim still failed to see how any of that old stuff could translate to his problems with Trixie.

Dan smacked himself on the head, only because Jim was out of reach. "Jeez, Jim, for being such a brain, you are really dim at times. Don't you see, _Mr. Honorable_, that you're gonna honorable yourself right out of Trixie's life."

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know, what do you and Honey expect me to do? Go up to Sleepyside and seduce her? I'm sure that would go over well with Mr. Belden, Brian and Mart," he added sarcastically.

"No you big jerk. Everyone you ever loved deeply was taken away from you. So I think deep inside, you're afraid to tell Trixie how you really feel. Because you're so afraid like in the past, Trixie will be taken from you. She's not exactly your run of the mill 18 year old woman. She's not frail and needy. So you exist in this sort of limbo, making plans you are afraid to execute. In the end, you are still making yourself into some paragon of virtue because you feel you don't deserve better, since you still have those bad thoughts. Except they're not bad thoughts. They're perfectly normal thoughts for everyone else." And you're gonna lose if you don't act soon. Dan didn't add that part. His friend was in enough pain as it was. He didn't need to add more. He already gave Jim enough to think about. "C'mon, your phone should be ready."

The two men walked back to the retailer in silence. Dan and Honey had given Jim a lot to think about. Could it be true? Could it possibly be he was so tainted by the past that it skewed his present? That all the things he thought he was doing for Trixie he was really doing to protect himself?

As they walked back home Dan said quietly, "Don't be Sidney Carton, Jim. If you love her, don't let her go without a fight. Don't let all your honorableness get in the way."

Jim just stared with an inscrutable green gaze at Dan's back as he sauntered away.

A/N: Many thanks to Mylee, my wonderful editor and cheerleader!


	8. Chapter 8

Competition Chapter 8

"I hung up on Jim yesterday."

Di stared at Trixie, shocked into speechlessness. Trixie Belden hung up on Jim Frayne? Jim, the supple woodsman? Jim, the embodiment of all her dreams? Di glanced around the trail; yes, there were the familiar landmarks. So she didn't enter the twilight zone as she feared. "You hung up on Jim? Why on earth…"

Trixie, red flags of color again staining her cheeks proceeded to inform her friend of the high-handed way Jim began lecturing her about Aidan and a simple ride home. "I thought we were past that point where he had to point out every little wrong thing he thinks I do," she stormed. "He'll _never_ see me as an adult. I'll _always_ be 13 years old to him. I don't need another parent!"

_Oh Jim._ Di winced inwardly. _You're about to push your special girl right out of your life and into the waiting arms of someone else._ Outwardly composed, she replied to Trixie. "Well, if you want my _candied_ opinion…" She made the error on purpose, as much to tease Trixie out of the tantrum as to remind her of their shared past.

Trixie began to giggle uncontrollably which then set Di off. They both slid from their mounts, laughing so hard they could barely stand. Gasping for air, Trixie threw her free arm around Di's thin shoulders and squeezed. "I love you Di. I don't tell you that enough, but I really love you." Unexpected tears flooded Di's lavender eyes, and she hugged Trixie tightly. Someday, she hoped Trixie would be her sister by marriage as well as her sister of the heart.

Remounting, Trixie teased Di. "Well, it's my _candied_ opinion that _if_ Mr. Frayne saw us now, for sure he would think we were both still 13 again instead of high school seniors about to embark on a college career!"

"Oh, screw him!" Di replied airily. It was a good thing Di was riding slightly in front and could not see Trixie's blush. _But that's exactly what I want to do._ _No, she amended; I want to make love to him and him to make love to me until, well, until forever. _Trixie didn't voice that thought out loud. Di continued, "So tell me about the delectable Aidan."

"Ummm, he is quite cute isn't he? I met his mom, she's from Ireland. She runs her own business on the web selling handmade Irish…stuff. They live in the old van der Wold place. Remodeled a portion of that big barn out back into an office and warehouse for her stuff."

_He already brought to meet his mother_. Frowning, Di continued her interrogation. "Was she nice?"

"Oh yeah. Really nice. She invited me to dinner, but I had to beg off. I introduced Aidan to Moms too, after he drove me home. You know how my parents insist upon meeting all my friends, and especially now since Aidan is going to be tutoring me instead of Chris."

"_Ree-ally_." Di drew the word out. Mr. McCourt was certainly not letting any grass grow under his feet, unlike a certain Mr. Frayne. Grass? Di snorted to herself; heck, he let an entire jungle grow there.

"Oh Di, it's _just _tutoring. After school in the math lab. Chris never shows up and I _ree-ally_ need to pass the Trig final. Jim acted like Aidan was some serial killer or something. Yes, the next thing we know," she added dramatically, "I'll just be a re-enactment on _America's Most Wanted_ while they describe the horrifying career of the Auburn-Haired Math Tutor Schoolgirl Killer! He left a trail of dead, math-challenged high school girls in his cross country killing spree!" Trixie brought her hand up to her forehead in mock histrionics. Warming to the subject, she continued. "They'll interview Jim and he'll look very distinguished and solemn and say, 'I warned her about going with that creep! But did she listen? No! And now she's probably really upset because she is dead!"

Di was laughing so hard by this time, she nearly fell off Strawberry. "Stop Trixie! Oh my God. You're going to make me pee myself!"

Sobering a bit, Trixie felt a bit guilty for poking fun at Jim when he wasn't around to defend himself. "To be honest, Di, I _did _feel a bit uncomfortable, because what Jim said was true. I didn't stop to think. What if Aidan really wasn't such a nice guy and his Mom wasn't home? I really don't know him all that well, and I just sort of assumed that he was all honorable and stuff like Jim."

"But he wasn't, and he was and you shouldn't," Di retorted.

It was Trixie's turn to laugh. "You've been spending way too much time with Honey, and so have I because I actually understood what you're saying!"

Regan came out of the stable and smiled at the two women having a fit of the giggles on his horses. Oh, they might belong on paper to Matthew Wheeler, but they were really _his_. "Judging by the hilarity out here, I am assuming you girls had a nice ride."

Trixie gave him a brilliant smile and for one brief moment, Regan almost wished he was younger or she was older…_Jim Frayne better get a move on, _he thought, _because someone else is going to beat him to her. _

To atone for having very slightly lusted after his employer's daughter's best friend, Regan grinned at both girls and grabbed the reins. "Scoot, you two. I'll take care of the horses. This time only!"

The girls slid off their mounts, and Regan would not hear their protests. Reluctantly, Di started home to finish a paper. Trixie turned down the well-worn path to Crabapple Farm.

Her thoughts led her back to her mini-disagreement with Jim. It was not really that she minded all that much not going to the dances and things. Or when Mart and Brian were home and Jim stayed back in New York City, and the first thing they did was to go out with her best friends. It did get lonely sometimes, but not as often as Honey or Diana thought. She knew Jim was taking more classes than normal, studying and working hard…but for what? She used to think it was for them. For that nebulous future she always dreamed of. However, it didn't seem like he was all that interested in her as a romantic partner. He still held her hand and gave her friendly hugs or pecks on the cheek when he was home. But he never asked her out, just the two of them.

She wanted more.

Her cell phone chirped and she just flipped it open without thinking.

"Hi Trix." It was Jim, saying hi just as if he hadn't said those awful things to her yesterday. "Trix?"

"I'm here, Jim." Two calls in two days when she hadn't heard from him in weeks. What on earth was going on?

"I…ah..I wanted to call and apologize for losing my temper yesterday. I'm sorry Trixie. I just…I guess I just worry about you when I'm…when we're not home." Jim stammered out the apology. It was always hard for him to admit he was wrong.

Trixie blew out a breath. "I understand your concern Jim, and to be fair, you did have a valid point. He is a lot bigger than me, and I don't know him well at all. I just always assume that all guys are as nice and honorable as you are."

Jim winced. There was that word again. _Honorable_. Trixie chattered on about her ride with Di, and Jim felt marginally better that he was forgiven so swiftly. But it bothered him, that word. Was he so obsessed with being honorable that life was passing him by? What would have been so bad if he started dating Trixie earlier?

_Absolutely nothing._ The thought stunned him with its intensity.

"…then, after we were brought back to Earth by Captain Kirk, Mulder and Scully appeared and interrogated us for hours about the little green men."

"That's nice, Trix," Jim said absently.

"James Winthrop Frayne II, you haven't been listening to a word I said!" Brought back to the present by Trixie's aggrieved voice, he apologized again. God, he was the sorriest he'd ever been lately. Taking a great gulp of air, and praying to the gods, he took that first step towards plunging off the cliff.

"I miss you, Trix. A whole lot." The words were whispered, hoarsely, into the phone. He was so tense that his vocal cords were nearly paralyzed.

She must have misunderstood him. "Well, we miss all you guys too," was her response. Jim never said things like _that_ to her.

"No Trix. I meant I really miss _you,"_ Jim reiterated. He wanted to make absolutely sure she knew the meaning behind that simple phrase. No miscommunication, no hiding behind a fond expression. He wanted her…no, needed her to understand he missed _her_.

Trixie felt the words wash over her like a warm summer rain. It actually made her a little dizzy, a little weak-kneed and she sat right down in the middle of the path. "I, uh, I miss you too, Jim," she responded faintly. Her inquisitive mind immediately began churning. Miss her like what? A friend? A buddy? Or miss her like she missed him, his touch, his smell, his everything?

"The, uh, your prom is in a month or so," he began. "I'll be home full-time by then. Have you gone shopping with your mom for a dress yet?" He wanted to remind her. They did have a date, a real one, made so many years ago. "You looked beautiful when we went to my prom, Trix. Maybe I never told you, but you did. When you came down the stairs in that black dress, I uh…I actually thought you were the prettiest thing I had ever seen."

She could feel the red flush creeping across her face. "Th..thank you. I, um, I do have a dress." Her brain was rapidly turning into an oozing pile of mush. What were they talking about? Prom. Dress.

Jim's husky voice was pitched even lower, and the chills went straight up her spine. "I hope it's blue. You always look so pretty in blue." Jim was leaning against the headboard of his bed, his one hand fisted in the bedclothes, and deep emerald gaze alight on a picture of Trixie barely dressed in his favorite blue. He closed his eyes and took a deep, rasping breath, trying to get himself under control. His heart was beginning a slow, painful thump and his blood ran like fire though his veins. He couldn't tell her what he _really_ wanted to say. About all those soft curls and even softer skin; how he wanted her full lips on him...

"Blue sash." What was happening here? Jim's low, seductive voice was making her dizzy with desire. Trixie's own breath came in short, raspy pants, like she was running. Her insides seemed to be turning into a hot, slow liquid gold and she wanted his touch, so badly she actually slid her own hand across her heart, as deliberate and soft as she wanted his to be…

And then, her phone let out a chirp indicating another call coming through. For a moment, she sat there, confused, lost in a haze of longing, before realizing with a few whispered words, she and Jim, or at least she, had come very close to initiating something that was better done in private rather than on a public path.

"I have another call Jim, it may be Moms," she stuttered out.

"Okay. Talk to you soon," he whispered, in that strange, strangled voice. Her phone clicked off before she could hear the tag. "Love you."

It wasn't Moms. Trixie was still in a Jim-induced haze when she answered, slowly and with a sort of wantonness to her voice, "Hello?"

It was Aidan. Of course it was Aidan. He and Jim seemed to have a psychic connection the past couple of days. When one called, the other did. It was very strange. Trixie picked herself up off the path and briefly wondered how she got there. "Hey Aidan. What's up?" she answered in a more normal tone of voice. She was going to examine the conversation with Jim at home, in the privacy of her room. Somewhere where she could minutely scrutinize every little word and inflection of a momentous conversation.

"I thought I would call you to ask if you would like to come to dinner at my house after tutoring on Monday. My mom is so happy that you helped her with her computer, she asked me to ask you. She's used your solution several times since then." It wasn't _quite_ that way, but Trixie didn't have to know that. He kind of suggested it to his mom in a roundabout way, and she was more than happy to have him extend the invitation. Then, with just that tiny bit of calculation: "It will be nice to have a _friend _over."

Oh, the poor guy. Having to move from place to place…"I'm sure Moms will say ok. If there's any problem, I'll call you back."

_One small victory does not mean you won the war._

"Thanks, Trixie. Hey, you aren't a vegan or anything, right?" He seemed to remember her with a chicken salad the first day he saw her. It would be horrible if his mom served up some rare roast beef or something and she was one of those animal rights nuts.

"Strictly carnivore," she laughed. "We Beldens will eat anything not nailed down."

"My mom will probably make Irish stew with some soda bread. She likes to introduce new people to the smells and tastes of her home country," Aidan added. "I hope you like lamb."

"Anything is okay with me." She was walking up the steps to the Farm. "I'm off to do my chores now Aidan. See you tomorrow."

Three people and two phone calls.

Jim lay back against his headboard, astonished that he almost had phone sex with Trixie and he never even kissed her. Yet. He vowed the next couple of weeks would be different. He would, well, court her. She deserved as much from him.

Aidan ran downstairs to tell his mother they would be having a guest for dinner tomorrow, his grey-green eyes alight with expectation. He was succeeding in introducing Trixie into his life in a small way; the new school wasn't bad and things were certainly looking rosy.

Trixie took her time dusting and vacuuming the house. Her thoughts were full of the promise in Jim's voice, and the happiness of making a new friend in Aidan. It never occurred to her that she was the apex of an age-old triangle. After all, Trigonometry was not one of her best subjects.

Many thanks to my editor Mylee, whose encouragement and assistance is so very appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

Competition Chapter 9

Jim Frayne stood on the curb in front of the store after his morning with Habitat for Humanity. Dusty tan work boots, untied, drew the eye up his long, jean-clad legs that were more than a step apart. A lightly stained t-shirt was covered by a blue and black plaid flannel shirt, rolled up over muscular forearms. His large hands were placed in his back pockets, as he gazed at the store with a mixture of awe and trepidation. He missed all the appreciative looks being cast his way by the high-powered career women that that seemed to seep out of every office building in Manhattan.

It was just so _bright_ in there. And crowded with merchandise. The only thing, he figured, that was worse than actually going in there would be if he was going shopping for lingerie or feminine hygiene products. Scrubbing a calloused hand across his flushed face, he took the plunge and pulled open the door with the fancy gold lettering: The Hallmark Store.

It was worse inside than he expected. Racks upon racks of colorful cards; candles and ornaments; bows and ribbons and gift wraps and bags; little china knickknacks assaulted his senses and crowded him in. About to turn tail and run, his panicked look was caught by a sales associate who sweetly inquired if she could help him.

"Uh, yeah. I'm..uh, I want to buy a card to tell someone that I miss them," he mumbled.

"Okay. Now, we have different types of Miss You cards. Follow me."

Different types of _Miss You _cards? What on earth was with that? You either miss someone or you don't. Seeing his puzzled face, the saleswoman held up one perfectly manicured hand and began to tick them off. "There's your friendly miss you, one to make up after a fight miss you; funny miss you; woman to woman miss you; might be pregnant miss you; romantic miss you. We even have one you can fill out yourself." She gestured to a large area.

Jim muttered his thanks as she sauntered away to help another customer and began to sort through the selection. The funny ones were, well, too funny and some even had a hard, nasty edge. The romantic ones all seemed to feature really sappy verse and pictures of doe-eyed waifs or adorable puppies and kittens. Not quite a fit for his warrior woman. Geez, he really was no good at all this touchy-feely stuff. Maybe he should have gone out on a couple of dates for practice, instead of burying himself in schoolwork.

About to give up, his eyes focused on a small card and lit up. The front was a beautiful watercolor rendition of several orchids, with a slashing Miss You softened by a lavender color. Opening up the card, he prayed for a simple verse and not one of the overly sentimental and gushy ones he was reading.

It was blank.

His lips tilted up at the corner as he found the matching envelope and strode swiftly to the checkout. A few minutes later, pen in hand, envelope addressed and stamped, he wrote his message to his special girl.

He transferred the bag with the other object he bought on an impulse to his right hand once the card was mailed, and went to class. Only time would tell if he needed the contents.

Trixie, miles away in Sleepyside and unaware of the turmoil she was causing in Jim's life, was pretty relaxed and definitely happy as Aidan helped her into his car. He met her at the math lab right on time, and didn't lecture, blow out exasperated breaths or roll his eyes as one Mr. Jim Frayne and Mr. Brian Belden were wont to do. She showed him examples of problem areas, and they got right to work.

He was very patient with her and took her through a few examples, explaining each several different ways until she had her Eureka! moment. His wide, white smile and obvious enjoyment of her excitement at unlocking a mystery of Trig hid a much different reaction.

Working so closely together at the large, double tables, her proximity was driving him insane. He was close enough to smell the vanilla shampoo she used in her hair; close enough to those very tempting spirals so that they brushed against his arm or once, right across his face. His fingers itched to drop the pencil and touch all that tempting skin she had on display. It was no more so than any other girl in school, probably a lot less, but her creamy shoulders were just begging to be nuzzled. It was going to be another cold shower for him tonight. He idly wondered if he was going to expire of hypothermia before he had a chance to make a move.

"It was so nice of your mom to ask me over again." Trixie smiled at him, a brilliant, joyful smile that stole his breath away as they reached his car. He really was a nice person. He knew she was more than capable of getting into his car, but opened the door for her and grasped her elbow to make sure she had no problem climbing on to the high seats.

Buckling himself in, he was more than happy to share the fact that his mother was thrilled he was bringing a new friend to dinner. Instinctively, he knew he had to go slow with Ms. Trixie Belden. The innocence shone out of those drenched delphinium eyes, brighter than the shiniest Christmas tinsel, bringing out dormant protective feelings, ones he had not experienced since Kaitlin lived home.

Pulling in his driveway, he scurried around to her door and grasped her small, slender hand in his large one, ostensibly to help her out of the high vehicle. Once she was safely on the asphalt, he didn't let go as she expected; he pulled her along to the back porch and up the few steps into the kitchen.

"Ma! We're home!" Aidan announced in a stentorian voice. He turned to Trixie, still grasping her hand, and asked if she would like him to hang up her hoodie. Shrugging her shoulders out of it, exposing all that creamy skin again, Aidan took the object and disappeared into the mudroom the same time Mrs. McCourt entered the fragrant kitchen. Aidan leaned against the wall, inhaling deeply as he tried to get himself in some semblance of control. His _mother_ was out there, for heaven's sake! One look at his flushed face and she'd be examining him for a fever.

It _was_ a fever, just not the type you need a thermometer for.

"Hi Trixie," she greeted the buoyant blonde, and surprised Trixie and herself by giving Trix a little hug. "I hope you're hungry!"

"It smells delicious in here," Trixie said truthfully. "Can I help you set the table or anything?"

"Oh no, no, you're Aidan's guest," Siobhan replied, but very pleased Trixie asked. Not many girls Aidan brought home from time to time ever thought to ask something simple and mannered like that. Most of them expected to be waited on hand and foot. "I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen. We still don't have the dining room totally finished."

"Oh, not at all, Mrs. McCourt. That's where my family eats too. The dining room is really only used when we have lots of guests." Aidan reentered the kitchen to see his two girls having a pleasant conversation, not stilted in the least. He bent down and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek, much to her enjoyment, and asked Trixie if she wanted the ten cent tour of the downstairs.

She had never been in the house, although it had been built well before the civil war, much like Crabapple Farm. And like the Farm, succeeding generations had added to and modified the house. Besides the kitchen and mudroom, there was a formal dining room, a large guest bedroom, small half bath with a shower, another bedroom that had been converted into an office, a family den and a living room with a foyer. The den had a large stone fireplace with a slate mantle.

Trixie walked over to the mantle which was covered with framed photographs. She saw a toddler Aidan and a little girl who looked remarkably like a feminine version of him. "Your sister?"

His grey-green eyes darkened to mostly stormy grey. "Yeah. Kaitlin, she's three years older than me." Unconsciously, he sighed and ran the tip of his finger over the top of the frame. "She, uh, she and my dad had a falling out several months ago because he promised we wouldn't have to move again, and we did. The next thing you know, she eloped with her boyfriend and hasn't been home since."

Trixie put her small hand on his arm. "You and your parents are upset," she stated. He took his other hand and stroked her fingers, not even thinking about his action. "Yeah, pretty upset, especially Dad. You know how fathers are about their little girls. And I do miss my sister."

Trixie giggled. "Mine still calls me princess. I could be in my most disreputable jeans, smelling of horse and have on the dirtiest t-shirt and he'll always see me as Cinderella in her ball gown." Come to think of it, so did Jim. Her thoughts slid sideways to a long-ago party, a white orchid corsage and the feeling at the time Jim was getting ready to actually make a move – until they were interrupted by lights on the hill above them.

Unconsciously, she removed her hand from Aidan's touch and fingered the dainty silver bracelet she had on. She hadn't worn it for the longest time; had no particular reason why she felt she had to wear it today. Her fingertip slid over the engraving, three little letters that meant so much to her on that day he shyly gave it to her en route home from Happy Valley: JIM.

Siobhan entered the room and saw her son and Trixie in front of the fireplace, standing very close together and obviously very serious. Kaitlin. He must be telling her about Kaitlin. Swallowing a sigh, she pinned on a bright smile. "That fireplace and this room were a part of the original house."

Both Trixie and Aidan turned to her, relief on both of their faces. "It's lovely, Mrs. McCourt. What other rooms are original?" Pleased to be able to cut their conversation short about her wayward daughter and Aidan's unhappiness with his sister, she dove into the conversation with gusto.

"Well, the den here, of course. The office and the bedroom were all part of the original house. The kitchen was too, except it has been expanded and modernized. This older part of the house is giving me the most trouble," she murmured.

"Really, Ma? You never said anything." Siobhan looked at her son in exasperation.

"Aidan, I only told you and you father fifty times if I told you once the measurements of the two rooms are off." She turned to Trixie, eyes sparkling. "If they were watching the Superbowl and I told them Angelina Jolie was waiting for them, I'm sure they would be listening hard enough."

Aidan had the grace to flush at that. "Ah, Ma," he began, ready to explain that every single male in the world would shoot to attention for Ms. Jolie.

"Oh hush, Aidan." Addressing Trixie, she said, "I was undecided if I wanted to cover the hardwood floors in the rooms with carpet, so I was measuring the rooms. Both rooms have a little jog in the adjoining walls, almost like the walls suddenly spread apart right before the hallway, like a Y. I looked at the blueprints but nothing is there." She sighed with the mystery of it. "I suppose Mr. Sunderland, who was the original owner and builder, either was not really all that skilled at building or the house has settled over the years."

Trixie went totally still. "Did you say Mr. Sunderland?" She was suddenly possessed by an air of suppressed excitement. Could it be? The same Sunderland who built Rosewood Hall?

Siobhan stared at the spreading rose flush on Trixie's cheeks and the sudden glitter of animation in her china-blue eyes. "Uh, yes, according to the sketchy records, a Mr. Sunderland built the cottage, as it was called then. Apparently he didn't like Sleepyside life and moved to…"

"Croton!" Trixie finished. "May I look at the hallway between the rooms?" Siobhan gave her assent, and she and a puzzled Aidan followed her to the short hallway between the rooms. They watched in fascination as she began lightly knocking on the original planked paneling lining only one side of the hallway. It was darkened with age. Trixie was so intent on her task, she didn't flinch when a uniformed John McCourt joined the trio in the hall and inquired, "What's going on?"

Siobhan shook her head slightly as Trixie suddenly knelt and placed her hand underneath the molding and pulled. It took a couple of tugs, and the paneling slid up like a window. "Oh my God," uttered Siobhan, completely and totally astonished. "A secret room! How did you figure this out?"

Trixie stood up, her face flushed a bright red. She caught at Aidan's wrist when he made to go in the opening she had just created. "No, Aidan. You need to put a fan on. The room has been sealed up for a long time, the air is probably really bad in there. Trust me," she added dryly, "I know from experience." He turned to her, his grey-green eyes filled with frank admiration.

"How did you…"

"It's a really long story." Suddenly noting the older man standing there, her flush deepened to an even more vibrant red. Great. Caught crawling around on the floor by Aidan's dad. Swallowing a great gulp of air, she stuck out her slender hand and brazened it out. "Hi. You must be Aidan's dad. I'm his friend Trixie Belden, from school."

Bemused, the older man was enchanted by the petite blonde in front of him, blushing just as furiously as his wife did at times. "John McCourt. I'd love to hear your tale, but I'm absolutely famished. Is it suitable dinner conversation?" He arched a dark brow.

Giggling, Trixie informed him _all_ her stories were PG-13. "Well, why don't you wash up, Aidan and I will set the table, and we can discuss this over some delicious Irish stew and soda bread. I'm going to fade away to nothing!" He grinned as she snapped him a two-finger salute and headed off toward the bathroom.

John threw one arm around his son, one arm around his wife and led them to the kitchen. As they worked together to dish tonight's feast, John noted the dreamy expression on Aidan's face. _Uh-oh, the boy's got it bad._ What red-blooded American boy wouldn't be fascinated by an ebullient, gorgeous blonde who found secret rooms? More keenly observant that his wife and son, John was curious about the silver flash on her wrist, the one that said in big, bold engraved letters: JIM.

He wondered what that short name really meant to Trixie Belden.

Trixie paused at the doorway into the kitchen, watching the homey scene unfurling before her. Like a well-oiled machine, the three McCourts were engaged in tasks she and her brothers did many times before. "Are you sure I can't help?" Really, there must be something she could do!

Siobhan smiled and handed her the warm basket of soda bread. "If you could just put this on the table, I think we're all done."

Like the gentleman he was taught to be, Aidan pulled out Trixie's chair and seated her at the comfortably scarred kitchen table before seating his mother and himself. Spreading his napkin on his lap, John McCourt turned to Trixie and invited her to tell them about the secret room in the hallway. It almost sounded like a mystery story!

Trixie began. "Well, it all started when I crashed through a wall at Crabapple Farm…" In between bites of the delicious, fragrant lamb stew and home-baked soda bread, she told the tale of the mystery of the emeralds to her enthralled audience.

Aidan sat back in his chair, dazzled by the spirit, the adventure, and the intelligence of the girl across from him. "So, you think that this Sunderland guy might have hidden emeralds in our secret room?" Hidden treasure! Wouldn't that be the absolute ultimate?

She looked at Aidan and smiled. "No, I don't think so. What I think is…" she was interrupted by her cell phone chirping loudly. "I wonder if you can excuse me for a second? This may be my mother or dad, and I need to answer." Standing up, she walked into the mudroom and answered her phone without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey Trix," Jim's low, husky voice startled her.

"I can't talk to you right now, I'm in the middle of something. I'll try to call you tonight." With that Trixie snapped her phone shut. Why was Jim calling her so much all of a sudden? She couldn't believe he was checking on her prom dress again. It never dawned on her he could be calling her simply because he was slowly going crazy not being able to touch her. Or give her a fond glance. Except now, he knew he couldn't limit himself to a fond glance or innocent touch. He wanted it all.

Jim sat there, staring at his phone and getting that twinge in his gut that told him his Trixie was up to something. He only hoped it was another mystery and not another man.

Trixie sat back down at the table, but did not inform them of the identity of her caller. That was private, after all. She didn't vet Aidan's calls. She really had no reason to feel guilty.

"You were saying we don't have a treasure in our house," Aidan reminded her.

"Oh yeah! Well, I'm pretty sure that what you have there is a hiding place for escaped slaves during the Civil War, like the one I found at my house. You might find nothing, or maybe a few odds and ends left behind by some of the occupants. A lot of the older houses in this area were involved in the Underground Railway; I bet this was one of them. The Sunderlands were involved with that."

"Hey Trix, I'm going to set up a fan there after I take you home," Aidan said. "I'll probably explore there after school tomorrow. Are you game?"

"I'm sorry Aidan, I can't, although I would love to. Honey and I are exercising Lady and Susie tomorrow, and Regan gets really cranky if we don't follow through." Addressing his parents, she explained. "Lady and Susie are part of a stable Mr. Wheeler, that's Honey's father, maintains at their estate. Regan is their groom and he'll have our hides if we don't get the horses out. With our brothers away at college, it's difficult to get them all exercised as much as they need. But, you can certainly let me know what you find!"

Aidan looked crestfallen, but before her son could embarrass himself by whining, Siobhan quickly commented. "You know how to ride, Trixie?"

"Oh yes, Regan and Honey taught me a long time ago. Susie is more or less my horse, although I do ride all of them except Jupiter. He's Mr. Wheeler's and Jim's big black gelding and way too spirited for me. Jim is Honey's brother," she added as an afterthought, and her cheeks bloomed with a becoming rose color.

Glancing sharply at the bracelet adorning her wrist, John filed away this little nugget of information to examine at a later time. A neighbor boy, and a rich one from what the girl was saying. Convenient.

Scraping the last of the stew from her bowl, Trixie tuned to Siobhan. "Mrs. McCourt, this was delicious. I wonder if you could give me the recipe for my Moms."

"Sure, Trixie, I'll write it down and give it to Aidan to give to you. Did you save room for dessert?"

With a self-deprecating grin, Trixie patted her tummy. "Oh, I just could not eat another thing!" A quick glance at the kitchen clock and Trixie gasped. "I had no idea how late it's getting!"

Aidan quickly stood up. "I'll drive you home now, Trix. Ma, I'll take care of the dishes when I get home – and make sure you save me some ice cream!"

"Oh, I don't mean for you to miss your dessert." Distressed, Trixie apologized to the tall, handsome man looking at her with a strange light in his eyes.

"No problem Trix," he called from the mudroom. Returning with her hoodie, he helped her into it. "Everything was just so delicious and I got to solve a mystery! Thank you for having me today. It's the best day I had in a long time." It was too quiet without the guys and no new mysterious doings.

Looking at the brilliant smile and the light creating a luminous halo around the girl, Siobhan uncharacteristically kissed her on the cheek. "It was lovely having you here, Trixie. You'll have to come back soon. And you," she pointed at Aidan, "Drive carefully and straight home!" As the two left, Siobhan noted the look of concern on John's face.

It was something to talk about later.

When they pulled up to Crabapple Farm, Aidan hurried to the passenger side to help Trixie. "You know, I can get out of the car by myself," she twinkled at him.

"Yeah, but then I get the pleasure of walking to the porch," he retorted. As she climbed the stairs and turned to say goodbye, she was startled to be eye to eye with him. Gently, he grabbed her hand and said lowly, "Thanks for tonight. Thank you for the mystery." His long, strong fingers stroked her wrist gently as he leaned forward just that little bit and brushed her lips with his. "See you tomorrow."

She stood there on the steps until he pulled away, one trembling finger touching the lips he just kissed. It felt…nice. Somehow, she always thought Jim would be the first one to kiss her. But Aidan's friendly kiss was very nice.

As she turned to the house, a thunk on the porch caught her attention. It was her bracelet, one of the links cracked and broken. She gathered it in her hands and went into the house and up the stairs, still thinking about that lightest of kisses.

Jim fell asleep with his cell phone clutched in his fist, awaiting a call from Trixie that never came.

Thank you to my lovely editor, Mylee for all her help! This story would not be the same without her!


	10. Chapter 10

Competition Chapter 10

The next morning, Trixie automatically performed all the normal functions to get ready for school; however, she kept returning to the inescapable fact that changed something forever: Aidan kissed her. On the porch. She found herself lifting her fingers to her lips at odd moments, reliving the utter shock when his lips gently brushed over hers.

Running a pick through her unruly curls, she examined her face in the mirror. Did she look any different? Nope. Other than the slightly dazed expression, she looked exactly the same. Just plain old Trixie Belden with the mop of untamable gold hair.

The slight touch of Aidan's lips on hers was…nice. She tried and could not come up with a better word. It wasn't soul-destroying; she didn't see fireworks or feel dizzy with desire. It was…nice.

Her glance caught the bracelet in a small heap on her dresser. Picking it up, her heart gave a slight pang at the broken piece of their history. Jim and Trixie. She said it so often to herself that it sounded like one word. JimandTrixie. She supposed if they were a famous Hollywood couple, it would be shortened to Jix. Maybe it could be fixed; maybe they needed to be fixed. She'd ask her dad to drop it off at the jeweler's.

She raised her eyes to her reflection again, as they went wide with distress. She forgot to call Jim back last night! Looking at the time displayed on her clock radio, she wondered if he was awake yet. Impulsively, she decided to call him anyway.

The lyrics of Westlife's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" alerted him to the fact his special girl was calling. Jim was instantly awake, his cell phone still gripped tightly in his hand. "Trix," he breathed, "I was worried when you didn't call last night." He ran a hand through his red locks, making them stand up in all different directions. The relief he felt was so overwhelming, he closed his eyes and tried to steady his stumbling heart and shaking fingers.

"I'm sorry Jim, time just got away from me." She glanced in the mirror at herself, was surprised at what she saw. Faint rose color in her cheeks; a softening of her eyes; a little Mona Lisa smile; the slight breathless feeling she got whenever they spoke. Clearing her throat, she pulled her glance away from that immodest reflection. "Did you…ah..did you need something?" Her voice sounded different; more womanly, almost seductive.

_Yeah, Trix. I need you in my bed. Now._ Unable and unwilling to say those words to her over the phone, he settled for clearing the lump in his throat. "I just wanted to touch base. To, uh, let you know I've been thinking about you. I miss you. I miss Sleepyside."

"Oh, Jim." That was all she could squeak out through her suddenly paralyzed vocal cords. "Jim, I…"

He glanced at his watch, realized the time, thought he knew what she was going to say. "I know you have to get ready for school and I've got an early class this morning. I'll talk to you soon, Trix. Love you."

As the connection closed, Trixie stared at her phone with unbelieving eyes. Did she just hear right? Did Jim say "love you" in closing? She shook her head as if to clear it. No, he must have said something like give everyone my love. That must be it. She apparently misheard him through the roaring in her ears.

She made her way down the stairs and into the bright kitchen, where her young and beautiful mother was already bustling about. She dished Trixie up a waffle and some syrup, as well as a large glass of orange juice. "Dad took Bobby to school, Trix; he had one of those science projects that took up the whole back seat of the car. Are you taking the bus or is Honey picking you up?" What she really wanted to ask was what happened with Aidan last night.

Chewing slowly on a piece of the delicious waffle, Trixie thanked heaven she and Moms were home alone. She wanted to talk, woman to woman, and in their busy household, it was not often the female contingent had any private time. "Moms, can I ask you something?"

Helen heard the grave note in Trixie's voice and immediately sat down, chores be damned. Oh my. Looking at her daughter's revealing face, she could discern all the different emotions churning through her. Trixie always was as transparent as plastic wrap. _Oh Trixie_. More skilled at masking her feelings, she waited for her daughter to begin.

"Honey is picking me up, so we're leaving a little later. She and Di were out on Monday on a field trip with that culinary course they are taking," Trixie explained. "Moms, this is kind of a personal question."

"Baby, you can always ask me anything. If I can answer, I promise I will." Helen held her breath, and hoped desperately for the best. With Trixie, you never knew what was going to pass those lips.

"How many boys did you kiss before Daddy?" Whatever Helen thought Trixie was about to ask, that question just about dead last on the list. "I mean, you told me that you went out with boys before you met Daddy." Trixie's big blue eyes were leveled directly at her mother's matching pair.

"Well, Trixie, I kissed a few." Like her daughter, Helen began folding the placemat into interesting shapes. "I was never…never promiscuous, I just felt like I didn't want to share myself with just anyone. And that included kissing."

"How was kissing Daddy any different?"

A part of her really, really wanted liquid reinforcement. Maybe after Trixie went to school. A nice glass of white wine to steady her nerves. That was it. "It's…it's hard to explain, baby. It was pleasant kissing boys. I'm not going to deny that to you. But there was just something missing. When I kissed you dad for the first time, it was like WOW! So this is what all the fuss is about. I guess what I'm trying to say is, love makes it all so much more than just a bodily function." Helen really wished for the correct words to impart to her rather headstrong daughter.

"So, basically what you're saying is all the other guys were ok, but only Daddy really did it for you," Trixie summed up, rather clinically. "Made you feel like fireworks and rubber knees." Just then a horn honked outside as Helen shook her head yes. She couldn't speak if her life depended on it. "Thanks Moms." Leaving a half-finished waffle, her energetic daughter was out the door before Helen could make her brain connect to her mouth. She stood up, walked over to the deep farmhouse sink and gripped the edges tightly as she looked out into the orchard. She was not a mother for nothing. Her instincts were right on track. Aidan kissed her baby last night. Somehow, she couldn't help wishing that it was Jim.

Trixie was very quiet as she got into the station wagon. She half-listened as Honey brought her up to date on the results of her shopping spree with her mother, and briefly mentioned her dinner with Jim, and the fun time on the field trip to a famous culinary school. If she noticed Trixie only replied with a distracted um-hum, she didn't say anything.

Unfortunately, Trixie was also distracted during class. Instead of paying attention, her mind flitted from an unexpected kiss to unexpected calls. When did her life spin so out of control? What did this all mean? Pinching the bridge of her nose, she resolved to talk with Honey, too, during their ride today. It may be uncomfortable, there was certainly the ick factor, but she needed another perspective besides Moms'.

By the time Aidan entered the lunch room with Tad and company, Trixie was seated in the far corner with Honey Wheeler and Diana Lynch at a table for three. Conceding defeat for the moment, he waited until those big blue headlights of hers noticed him. A wink of the eye and a heart-melting grin later, he turned and got on line.

Di had her back to the action, but Honey followed Trixie's gaze to Aidan's smiling face. _Something's going on_. People didn't realize that her detective-ing instincts were almost as sharp as Trixie's. Bringing her gaze back to her best friend, she mouthed _What Happened _ only to receive Trixie's silent plea to drop the subject, and her mouthed "Later."

Aidan unobtrusively maneuvered his seat so that Trixie was in his direct view. "Man, McCourt, you better stop looking at Detective Belden." Tad felt sorry for the guy. "Take Leigh Michaels over there. Cheerleader. Definitely interested in you."

Aidan glanced briefly at the pretty girl a few tables over, obviously giving him "I'm available" signals. She was cute enough, but she wasn't a natural, sunny, smart blonde.

"Prom is coming up. Why don't you ask Leigh? I'm sure she'd go with you. I have it on good authority she broke up with her most current boyfriend a few weeks ago," Tad helpfully informed him.

"I was planning on asking Trixie." Aidan blurted it out before he could stop himself. He just hoped Tad wasn't a gossip. Only men didn't call it that. They were just relaying facts.

"Oh, no, no, no my good man." A slight punch to Aidan's shoulder. "Detective Belden has had a date to the prom for the past three years. Jim Frayne asked her then. And she's not the type of girl to break it, either." No matter what McCourt thought, Tad mused, those two were circling around each other in a long, sweet foreplay to the real action. When they finally get together, the detonation would probably be heard in Croton.

_This was something new._ What kind of a guy asks a girl for a date three years in the future? With sudden insight, Aidan discovered he really didn't want to know the answer to that question. Because if he did know, Trixie was already way beyond his reach. He took a ferocious bite out of his apple, and continued to watch her from across the room, completely ignoring Leigh, much to her chagrin.

The screen door slammed, and Helen knew her daughter was home from school. Some things never change. To be honest, she missed the boys and all the work of raising four rambunctious kids. There were barely enough chores now to keep _her_ busy. Bouncing into the kitchen, Trixie's eyes were alight with excitement. School was out for the day, and she and Honey were going to exercise the horses. If only Jim…she shook that thought away.

"Trixie, you received some mail today," her mother informed her, a secret little smile tilting her lips.

"More stuff from college?" Gleeps, how much stuff were they going to send her anyway? She had mountains of material; filled out so many forms that she thought she was gong to get permanent writer's cramp. She had expected to attend NYU, but was astounded when she was offered a four-year full ride to Dan's Cop College. She hadn't hesitated to accept.

"Nope, not from college." Trixie stared at her mother. She almost sounded smug. Practically skipping to the small table in the foyer where the mail was placed until the owner picked it up, she picked up the envelope and immediately recognized Jim's bold, slashing handwriting.

She could feel the slow flush creep across her face, and a sudden loosening of her muscles. She crept slowly up the stairs, wanting to be alone when she opened it. She slid bonelessly down on her bed, taking no notice of the charming antique floral quilt or the fresh spring air gently parting the curtains.

Sliding a short nail under the flap, she ripped open the crease, and removed a card. One hand slid over her heart, as though trying to quell the frantic beat there.

It was orchids. A beautiful, soft watercolor of orchids, with a gentle Miss You misted in lavender. She opened the card to read:

Dear Schoolgirl Shamus:

Is this your first card with a bouquet of orchids? I hope so.

See you soon.

Love,

Jim

Love. It said, 'Love, Jim'. Her heart actually stumbled. One shaking fingertip traced that 4 letter word, such a tiny thing, but so infinitely immense. "Jim," she whispered, his name on her lips like the sweet exhalation of a prayer. In the moment it took to tear open a fragile piece of paper, her whole world tilted and began spinning a sweet, seductive melody.

There was something building inside of her, something wild, something wonderful, and something that was shuffling all she was into the promise of all she could be.

And then she remembered, someone else kissed her last night. Someone else who was not Love, Jim. Covering her stinging lips with her fingers, she gently placed the card in her keepsake drawer and rushed out to meet Honey. She really, really needed her best friend.


	11. Chapter 11

Competition Chapter 11

The smell of his favorite dinner, corned beef and cabbage, did absolutely nothing to tempt Aidan as he slowly entered his house. It was amazing, he reflected, how different a person could feel in less than 24 hours. Yesterday he was with Trixie and full of excitement for the future; a future he hoped would include her. His thoughts darkened and he inwardly swore at one James Winthrop Frayne II.

Oh yeah. He took the time to look him up in the yearbook and in the past issues of the _Sleepyside Sun_ and the school newspaper. It didn't help his frame of mind that the guy in question was really handsome. And an athlete; excelled in basketball and really excelled in baseball. He was even scouted by the big leagues. Plus, he was a genius, or near one. Imagine winning a four year scholarship to college at age15!

He could compete with most of these. He wasn't bad-looking himself; could run a football faster than just about anyone. And he was pretty smart too; all honors and AP courses.

He didn't know if he could win against a man who fell in love with a girl when they were barely in their teens, and still harbored those feelings at what, age 20? It killed him to look at the pictures illustrating the articles and see most of them had Trixie, right there by his side. A 13-year-old with short messy curls, standing beside a shyly smiling Jim and a coolly collected Honey as the papers trumpeted the "Missing Frayne Heir Found!" If one was so, inclined, all one had to do was look where Jim's hand was. Of course. It was holding Trixie's.

Pictures of Bob-White functions to raise money for various causes; mysteries Trixie involved them in. In almost every one, Jim was close to her, touching her in some supposed innocent way. The hardest one to look at was when Jim pitched the no-hitter in his senior year. His teammates all gathered around him, but he had Trixie in his arms, one hand tangled in her now longer curls, those same curls he longed to touch. The other was supporting her as he twirled her around. It was the expressions on their faces that were the most arresting: he was looking at her like she existed only for him.

The problem was, she was looking back. Exactly the same way.

Siobhan came into the kitchen from her office, and noted the droop of her son's shoulders. "What's wrong, honey? Didn't you find anything in the wall?" She was so tempted to look inside, all day, but didn't want to disappoint Aidan. It wasn't everyday you found a secret room. Well, she amended silently with a touch of sarcasm, unless you were Trixie Belden.

"Huh? Oh, I totally forgot about it, Ma." He sat at the island, picking at non-existent dirt. His beautiful eyes were shadowed and Siobhan was instantly alarmed. "What's the matter, Aidan?"

Unable to still, he stood again and walked over to the window. "Do you believe in love at first sight, Ma? Do you believe that someone can fall in love when they're 13 years old and have that love carry them for the rest of their life? Or maybe just two people who have grown so comfortable with each other that they never gave each other a chance to grow?"

_He saw the bracelet. _She erred in her assumption, but the end result was the same. John had taxed her with it first thing after Trixie and Aidan left last night. He asked her if she took note of the pretty silver bracelet Trixie wore on her wrist. She didn't really notice it; saw it was there but was too excited about the secret room to really look.

John informed her of what that cursed thing really said: JIM. The girl was practically branded with another man's name. She had to her give credit; it wasn't a tattoo or anything permanent, but why on earth would she wear it to dinner? With her son? They came up with reasons from the absolutely ridiculous (she was kidnapped by aliens and the initials stand for just informational material to the absolutely incorrect – she was trying to catch Aidan's eye and make him jealous).

"That's a lot of questions, Aidan. It's hard for me to answer. I…I think sometimes people have an instantaneous deep connection. I don't know, maybe it's ESP, or fate or God. I've known people who just know from the first moment they laid eyes upon their partner that that was the one."

He turned stormy eyes on her. "If you believe that, if Da believes that, then why are you so angry with Kaitlin? Maybe Jake is her soulmate? It's not supposed to be like you can pick and choose."

Siobhan sat at the table, leaned her elbows on it and covered her face with her hands. "That's a completely different thing, Aidan. If I believe Jake was Kaitlin's soulmate, well, 'tis luck I'd be wishin' them. But I'm scared Aidan, scared that Kait just jumped into this marriage to rebel. I feel guilty about having to uproot you two all the time, Da and I knew how Kaitlin felt. It was easier for you. She…she just wanted a home that didn't move every two years."

Aidan rushed over to his mother; threw an arm around her chest and buried his face in her soft auburn hair. "I'm sorry Ma, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pick at you. I just had a rotten day."

She snaked an arm around her son's waist, feeling the softness of the sweatshirt and the roughness of the denim, grounding her in the moment when all she wanted to do was cry. "It's just…I really, really like Trixie," he mumbled into the top of her head. "But apparently someone else likes her a whole lot too." The last bit of information was forced out of a throat that felt like slivered glass particles. "He hasn't even officially dated her yet. He left her alone all these years!"

She spoke sadly. "Do you remember that old saying, Aidan? The one that goes, if you truly love something, set it free? If it comes back to you, it was always yours. If it doesn't, it never was? Maybe that's what he was doing." She utterly astonished him when she asked if the someone who set Trixie free was named Jim.

By silent, but mutual assent, neither Honey nor Trixie talked about anything of consequence when they were getting Susie and Starlight saddled. They knew where they were going. It seemed to be the place the three of them – Jim, Trixie, and Honey - went to whenever they had some deep thinking to do or serious conversation to have. The bluffs. It was magic there, with the high cliffs tumbling down to the wide river and its cold, hidden depths. They dismounted and tied the horses in the small clearing, patting their silky necks as they bent to sample the tender new grass.

The women stood there, staring down at the river, almost hesitant to break the silence between them. Turning to Honey, Trixie gave a great sigh and leaned against a tree, entwining her arm on a low branch and feeling the scratchy needles.

"Honey, I want to ask you something, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to." The hated red flush began its slow crawl across Trixie's high cheekbones. "I just want to promise you that whatever we say here is just between us."

Honey leveled her topaz eyes on Trixie's clouded blue ones. "Okay Trix. Ask away. And then I think I may have a question or two for you."

"You've been going out with…with my brother since you were 17. Brian," she added helpfully, in case Honey forgot to which brother Trixie was referring.

"Yup." At the mention of his name, Honey's remarkable eyes softened into gold. "He asked me out the day I turned 17."

"I know you guys, um, you know, have a relationship." If anything, Trixie's delicate rose flush became a vibrant red. Honey dipped her head, a secret smile lighting her pretty face and a slight flush staining her own cheekbones.

"Did you…did you ever kiss anyone other than Brian? I have a reason for asking." Trixie was terribly uncomfortable. How cruel it was that she and Honey were best friends, only to be interested in each other's brother. The normal conversations you can have with your best friend were almost completely out of the question.

Honey walked over to the tree and leaned on the trunk, right next to her best friend. She picked off a twig and began running it through her fingers. "I did. Not…not like I kiss Brian."

"Really! Who?" Trixie blurted out the question. She was Honey's best friend! She should have known this.

Honey giggled. "Tad Martin. It was before Brian and I got together. I think it was at the Sock Hop the year that Brian and Jim went to college. Brian, you know, Mr. I-am-not-making-a-move-until-I-write-a-dissertation-on-it- Belden, well, didn't make a move. I think you had that awful stomach virus thing that was going around. Anyway, I danced with Tad a lot and we got hot. We took a stroll in the courtyard and bam, he kissed me."

"Did you like it?"

Honey tilted her head back against the tree, looking up in the scraggly pine branches as if the answer was written on them. She sighed. The best description she could come up with was…nice. The kiss was nice, but not the kiss that kills. Brian had that one. "It was nice. Not spectacular, but okay for a first kiss. Sweet, I guess you'd say."

Trixie sat down, her back against the tree and picked up a fallen pinecone. Staring at it as if it were the most fascinating object in the universe, she said simply: "Aidan kissed me last night."

Honey slid down the trunk, her shirt riding up and feeling the picky bark against her skin. "Did you kiss him back?"

"No, I think I was too shocked."

Careful, tactful questioning from Honey shone a big, bright light on Trixie's eventful few days. She actually had to stifle a sudden, hysterical urge to laugh. Here was Trixie, almost totally clueless about the opposite sex, going from having no guy to having two guys trying to date her at the same time. Somewhere the gods were chortling in glee.

"Important question here, Trix. Did you like it?"

Trixie stood and brushed off the back of her jeans and walked closer to the cliff. She stared out at the river for a while, collecting her thoughts. Turning back to Honey, the tips of her lips barely turned up, she responded. "I _should _have liked it. He's…he's a really nice guy, Honey. He's smart, funny, good-looking; loves his family." She jammed her fingers into her front pockets. "But he's not Jim."

Honey looked down at her hands, not wanting Trixie to see the sudden flare of joy in her eyes. "Are you going to tell him? Aidan, I mean. I think it's only fair."

"I don't know. How do I know it wasn't just friendly thanks for finding a secret room in my house kiss? Then I'll be making a fool of myself when I explain how I've had this…whatever Jim and I have. And how can I explain something I don't understand myself to Aidan? You know, maybe, maybe if Jim wasn't a factor I could really like Aidan. But I can't. Not the way I think he wants me to like him."

Honey crossed over to her best friend of five years and hugged her tightly. Tossing a slender hand into the air, she did her best bored socialite voice and said, "You tell him that you just want to be friends, dahling." A giggle escaped from Trixie, and turned into rather hysterical laughter.

She pressed her arms to her aching sides and looked back at the Hudson. She couldn't help the shiver that traversed her spine. Something big was looming over her, and there was a wild, answering call to it from deep within her.

Aidan shone the powerful flashlight into the secret room. There was no staircase leading to a secret tunnel and a treasure trove of emeralds; just a dusty, musty triangular space with barely enough room for a tall man like him to stretch out in. The light caught a battered tin bowl and some old papers; Aidan scooped the items up carefully.

He set the items on the kitchen table carefully. The tin bowl was probably all the property one of the escaping slaves possessed. He hoped whomever it belonged to successfully completed his flight to freedom. The papers were yellowed with age and rather faded, but they were documents freeing a slave named Jonah from a plantation near New Orleans. Aidan realized that even having papers could result in a former slave being sold to another owner.

"Ma, I wonder if this bowl belonged to Jonah?" His eyes sparkled. A mystery! Maybe he could get Trixie involved, and said as much to Siobhan, as John walked into the kitchen. "Where is Trixie?" he asked, as if he expected her to be there to the climax of the Mystery of the Secret Room.

"Aidan. We discussed this. You need to talk with Trixie and get things out in the open. Like why she was wearing a bracelet with another man's name on it while she ate dinner with us." Siobhan wasn't sure she could forgive the girl for that.

John looked into his son's turbulent eyes and clapped him on the back. "Just follow my rules, son," he said jovially. "Love, war; it's all the same."

A small hand grabbed at John's wrist and pulled him to face her. "You. Gave. Our. Son. Love. Rules?" It didn't happen often, but Siobhan's Irish temper was flaring. "Military rules? How could you, John?"

"Hey, I was just trying to help the boy win his campaign," John began, but his voice got softer and slower as he saw the blue fire in his wife's eyes.

Aidan just stood there, dumbfounded, as his mother laced into his father. He could have joined the fray, but decided the entertainment value was too good to pass up.

"A girl isn't a _campaign_, John, you idiot." Really. She should just whack him one upside the head.

Of course, John just had to dig himself in a little deeper. "War. Love. You're out to win. I…"

"Oh, so is that how you look at us, John? I was some sort of stupid campaign. What did you do, stay up nights drawing maps to plan your next move? Did you have it all planned out in the war room?"

Uh-oh. Backtracking, John looked helplessly at Aidan, who only arched a dark brow at him. "No, not us, Siobhan. It was different…" he was foundering here and his darn son was no help.

"How? How was it different? God!"

Before John could answer, a tall, slender woman with jet black hair and the same grey-green eyes as her brother walked into the kitchen. Taking in the old bowl and paperwork on the table, the tension and amusement emanating from the trio standing in the kitchen, Kaitlin simply had to ask. "What's going on in here? What's all that old stuff?" She took a deep breath. "And why is there a hole in the wall in the hallway?"

"Yo. Jim." Dan knocked on the bedroom door. The pizza was here and so was Mart. Living with Mr. Martin Belden presented quite the challenge, food-wise. Mart's philosophy ran more to eating everything in sight rather than making sure there was enough for everyone.

He knocked again and pushed the door slightly open. Not that he thought he'd catch Mr. Honorable doing anything not honorable. But there was always hope. Dan heard the shower running and knocked again on that door. "Pizza! Mart's home!" If that didn't get Jim out quickly, oh well, he was warned.

As Dan turned to leave, Jim's cell phone began to ring. Dan's eyes widened in shock, and a big grin split his face. _Total Eclipse of the Heart?_ Jim Frayne? Oh, he had to store this one up. He picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID. Trixie. No wonder. Oh, Mr. Frayne certainly had it bad. He placed the phone back in the charging cradle when a flash of light caught his eye. Something was wedged between the bed and the nightstand.

Carefully removing the offending object, Dan gazed upon barely clad body of the woman he considered a sort-of sister. No wonder Jim was so out of sorts lately. Whistling softly to himself, he replaced the photo. Must have been taken on one of the girls' sunbathing days at the Manor House. Yep. It was good being Dan. It would not, however, be good to be Jim if Mart or Brian saw that photo. Let's see, how many dishwashing and vacuuming days could he trade for his silence? He went to stake a claim on his portion of the pie.


	12. Chapter 12

Competition Chapter 12

The text message came through on her cell phone as she was walking home. It simply said _He has Total Eclipse of the Heart by Westlife as his ringtone when you call him._

The family computer at home was free, now that her older brothers were not around to monopolize it. Putting on her headset, she quickly found the song on Youtube.

_And I need you now tonight,_

_And I need you more than ever,_

_And if you only hold me tight,_

_We'll be holding on forever._

_And we'll only be making it right  
Cause we'll never be wrong together  
We can take it to the end of the line  
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time  
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark  
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks  
I really need you tonight  
Forever's gonna start tonight__*_

Jim had that on his cell phone. For her. A song so full of longing and love it was palpable. She couldn't breathe, it was destroying her. It was making her the happiest she'd ever been. It was making her the saddest she's ever been. And it was making her the angriest she's ever been. She was unaware that her big blue eyes filled with crystal tears that overflowed and dripped slowly onto the keyboard.

Jim came out of his bathroom, an emerald green towel wrapped around his narrow hips. Opening his bedroom door slightly, he yelled, "There better be some pizza left when I get out there!" There. Mart was forewarned. Before he could finish dressing, his cell phone blared out the sentimental lyrics he had assigned to Trixie. Glancing at his door, he quickly picked up the phone while inwardly swearing at himself for forgetting to change it to vibrate.

"Hey Trix," he smiled into the phone. _She was actually initiating a call._

"Jim," was all she said, her voice full of tears. Of course it was another impulsive phone call. What was she going to say now? _I'm so in love with you, angry with you, please, why can't you just be here with me…what took you so long?_

He hated it when she cried. He especially hated it when he was not there to tease her out of her mood. His grin quickly faded to be replaced by a quick intake of breath and a stuttering of his heart.

"What's wrong Trixie? Why are you crying?" He swore if that Ian guy did anything to hurt her, he'd be lucky to see tomorrow.

She couldn't tell him the reason for her tears. That every wish she made upon a falling star and every dream she dreamt in her lonely bed might possibly be coming true. "My…my bracelet broke." She choked the words out, and a sighing sob shredded his heart.

"What bracelet Trix, baby?" He ran a large hand through his wet hair. It wasn't like Trixie to get upset about jewelry. _If _she had any other than the diamond solitaire he gave so long ago. And the secret he kept about it, hoarding it to himself like a miser. _It was a promise_.

"The bracelet you gave me on the plane home from Happy Valley," she sniffed loudly. "I was wearing it and one of the links broke."

_The bracelet I gave her_…lightbulb! "Oh, you mean the one with my name on it. You…you still wear it?" He was incredulous. That was four years ago. Four long, grueling years of bottling up everything.

"Not all the time. But a lot." She began sniffling again. "And it broke."

"Don't cry, Trix, I'll buy you a new one." He remembered the inexpensive bracelet he gave her with his name engraved on the silver tablet. "I'll buy you a better one," he whispered. "One that says James Winthrop Frayne II."

Her emotions were seesawing all over the place and she gave a wet laugh. "I don't think my wrist is big enough for all that." A tired sigh. "When are you coming home Jim?" She had so much to say to him, and wondered if he had anything at all to say to her. She certainly hoped so.

_Now, Trix. I want to be there right now. Please wait for me. _ "A week and a few days, Trix. Not long." It wasn't long in days, hours or minutes, how the rest of the world measured time. It was an eternity in Jim and Trixie time.

"Trix! Dinner!" For a moment Trixie swore she heard Mart's loud shout, but realized it was Bobby. They sounded almost exactly alike. "Bobby is doing his best Mart impression," she informed Jim dryly.

Jim couldn't help but chuckle. He heard the shout even through the weak mike of the cell phone. "I have the real Mart here, and believe me, I'd rather have Bobby. Maybe there'd be something left to eat once in a while."

Trixie took a very deep breath and went for broke. "I really miss you, Jim. Have a great night. Talk to you soon. Love you." The last was barely whispered as the connection broke.

Did he hear that? Or was it merely a wish, a hope, so powerful that it took on a life of its own? Dazed, he placed his cell phone on the nightstand and walked out into the apartment.

Mart, Brian and Dan were seated at the kitchen table, devouring the pizzas from Luca's. Brian took one look at Jim and raised both his eyebrows. "I know we don't stand on ceremony here as much as we do at Crabapple Farm or the Manor House," he directed this little barb toward his best friend. "But even I have to disagree with eating at the table clad only in a bath towel."

"Although I must say, that emerald green really brings out the color in your eyes." Dan smirked. "Could be a little shorter though."

"Ah yes, the metrosexual skirted look," Mart began. "Nice legs, Frayne. If you were a girl…" he eyed him up and down. "Nah. Too tall for me."

A fiery red flush stole quickly over Jim's embarrassed face. It totally slipped his mind to get dressed. He looked down at the towel in amazement and back up at his so-called friends who were hooting with laughter. "Better be some pizza left," he growled and fled back to the privacy of his room. Once there, he leaned against the closed door and let out a deep breath. _He forgot to get dressed_. Yes, this was clearly a sign of the impending apocalypse or early onset insanity. He banged the back of his head lightly against the door, still hearing the hysterical laughter of the others in the kitchen.

Three pair of incredulous eyes turned toward the woman demanding an accounting of just what the hell was going on in her family. They stood there, a frozen tableau of a once-happy family, until Aidan moved a few steps and embraced his well-loved sister. "Kaitlin." A whisper in her ear, and her eyes filled with tears. "You're home."

She was suddenly surrounded by family, all just wanting to touch and hug her to make sure she was not some figment of their collective imagination. John was the first to break off, craning his neck and looking around. "Where's Jake?" He would try, for his daughter's sake.

With eyes downcast, Kait sidled over to the tall stools at the island, and drew a deep, calming breath. Darn her Irish temper anyway. It always propelled her into the most fantastic scrapes and here she was again, with her family looking at her expectantly, awaiting an explanation of where their new son-in-law and brother-in-law could be hiding.

She ran her fingers through her long black hair, a nervous habit her mother immediately noticed. Sliding a hip onto the stool and wiping her clammy hands along her thighs, she raised her eyes to stare directly into the concerned ones of her dad.

"Well, ummm. Jake isn't here." She rushed the words out. "I drove down alone."

John opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a whoosh of air. Siobhan knew what he was thinking, knew what he was going to say about a man who let wife drive hundreds of miles by herself in a beat up old Volkswagen. A pointed elbow to the ribs forestalled any critical comment. She had her baby back, and she wasn't about to let anything drive Kaitlin away. She didn't, however, figure on Aidan bringing the subject up.

"He let you drive all the way down here alone? What the hell is the matter with him?" The words exploded out of Aidan. His sister, so pretty and defenseless, driving that old beater all the way to Sleepyside from Maine? Damned if he didn't want to drive back up there and beat the sh…crap out of the dude.

Instead of angry recriminations, Kaitlin bit her bottom lip and scrubbed at her face. She wondered what it was inside her that drove her to embroil herself in these ridiculous escapades. She should be past the age of wanting to shock her parents with her rebellions. Maybe she was now, she thought. After she confessed all.

"He didn't exactly let me," she said in a small voice. "Oh Ma, it's all so mixed up and crazy and I was so lonely for you all."

Knowing her daughter well, Siobhan walked over and stroked her hair as if she were a small child in need of comfort. "Honey, I hope you told him where you were going. He's your husband. Even if you had a fight, he deserves that consideration."

"But that's just it, Ma, we never got married. He's not my husband. Hell, he's not even my boyfriend anymore."

Jim peeked out of his bedroom. Now fully dressed sans shoes, he listened very carefully for any signs of hilarity coming from the kitchen area. Good. All was quiet. He really wasn't in the mood for another round of teasing. He sidled over silently to the kitchen area, taking his time in case his supposed friends were lying in wait. It happened before. The only things in the kitchen were a few empty pizza boxes on the counter and the one full one in the middle of the table.

Grabbing a cold water from the fridge, he quietly pulled out a chair, picked up a slice of his favorite pepperoni, and began to eat, all the while debating if he should just snatch a couple of pieces and go eat in peace in his room. Yup. That sounded like a good idea. He crossed to the cabinet to get a plate, when he saw the chores schedule and did a double take.

For the next couple of weeks, Dan's name was crossed off under Dishes and Vac. and Jim's substituted in red block letters Jim recognized as Dan's. He pulled the offending paper from the cabinet. What the heck was Dan trying to pull now? He crumpled the paper in one fist as Dan came sauntering into the kitchen with raised eyebrows and that snarky grin.

"So, what've you got there, James my boy?" Dan knew full well what Jim had in his hand. Oh, the fun he was going to have!

"As if you didn't know. What's the deal with crossing off your name and putting mine in its place? I don't remember agreeing to do your chores." Jim shoved the ball of paper at Dan. "Fix it."

Dan took the paper and very slowly and methodically straightened it out, smoothing the creases as if he were working on a rare old manuscript instead of a page torn out of a spiral notebook. "Oh, I think you're going to _want_ to do my chores. You know, being friends and fellow Bob-Whites."

Jim snorted out his opinion of that rather strange statement. "In your dreams, _Mangan_."

Dan sat down and leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms behind his head and lacing his fingers there, all the while looking very unconcerned about Jim's rising temper. He let out a short laugh. "Oh, not _my_ dreams, _Frayne_. You know, cell phone tunes can be very catchy. You hear one and then it sticks in your head for hours, maybe even days." Somewhat off-tune, Dan began humming a certain catchy tune he heard recently in the confines of Jim's room, and watched as Jim realized with utter resignation Dan knew about the tune assigned to Trixie.

Deciding to boldly brazen it out, Jim said mildly. "What's that you're humming Dan? That was always one of my favorite oldies."

If anything, Dan's grin grew bigger, striking terror into Jim's heart. Leveling his chocolate brown gaze directly into Jim's emerald one, he continued. "Oh yeah. I can see that." He coughed, and his grin stretched all the way across his face. "Did you know the girls umm, sunbathe in very, very skimpy bikinis at the Manor House when we're not home? They're very modest around us guys." He went in for the kill. "It's not like anyone is there to take a _picture_ of any one of them, is it?"

Jim was astounded. "How the hell…never mind." Conceding defeat, he tacked up the schedule back on the cabinet and left the room shaking his head, in direct contrast to Dan's peals of laughter.

The silence in the kitchen of the McCourt house after Kaitlin's announcement seemed to stretch on for hours. She looked directly at her dad, hope flowering in his eyes, to the blue ones of her mom that relayed the message: _we'll talk later_. Aidan just sat heavily on a chair. This day was just too much.

"I'm sorry," Kait began, feeling as though those words were not weighty enough to express the remorse she felt for deceiving her family. 'It…it's just that Daddy promised. Then we had to move again, like some sort of refugee family fleeing the Huns or something. I just felt really, I don't know, lied to I guess." John flushed and opened his mouth to speak. Kaitlin raised a hand. "I know Daddy. I know you just go where you're assigned. It's just, I guess I had it. I was so furious. I went back to school and you know, told Jake. Then all of a sudden we were talking about getting married, eloping. We actually did take out a license. But I couldn't go through with it. I don't love him, not the way you love Ma or Ma loves you. But I wanted to hurt you all, even you Aidan." He looked in surprise at his sister. "It was always so easy for you to make friends, start over." She bent her head and picked at the rough nap of her corduroy jeans. "Please forgive me."

Later on that night, Aidan heard the noises out on the porch. Kaitlin. He pulled on a pair of sweat pants and went to join her. She was sitting on the porch swing, a whimsical leprechaun thrown across her legs, her pretty face tilted up to the heavens.

"So, care to sit with your brother?" he asked lowly. She smiled up at him and nodded. He set the swing to rocking gently.

"So, how is Sleepyside? From what I saw, it seems like a quiet little town."

"It's nice. One of the nicest places we ever lived in." He shifted around to look her in the eyes, the same grey-green of his own. "Dad's retiring after this round is over. He likes the town here, and he's been approached about teaching at the White Plains High School and taking over the ROTC there."

"I know, Ma told me. She kinda tore me a new one. In a nice way of course." Kaitlin giggled, the first time she laughed since she came home. "Hey you know what? Nobody told me about the hole in the wall in the hallway!"

Her brother's smile abruptly ceased. "Um, it's not a hole Kait. It's a secret room. There's a panel that slides up and down. That's where I found all that old stuff on the table in the kitchen. Apparently a lot of the old farmhouses in this area were part of the Underground Railway."

"How on earth did you find it Aidan? That's so cool!"

Aidan looked away, but not before she saw the shadows in his eyes. "I didn't find it, Trixie did."

"Trixie? Sounds like the name of a hooker in a bad B movie," Kaitlin quipped.

"Trixie Belden is the prettiest, smartest most wonderful girl in the world," Aidan protested. This proclamation was followed by a huge sigh.

"Uh-oh. My little brother is toast!" she teased.

"Yeah, well, I may be toast, but she has absolutely no clue. None. She may be the world's greatest girl detective, but about the opposite sex? Nada. To top it off, I'm tutoring her in Trig. And she has this weird sort of relationship with some guy she's known since she was 13. He's off at college, never dates her or anything but everyone at the high school treats her like he gave her a ring or something."

Searching her brother's face, she noted the misery in his eyes. "So she's really an innocent," she said. "Not your usual type!"

He slouched back on the swing. It felt good to talk to her about this, about Trixie. "Totally and completely clueless. I just think we could be so good together," he spoke with conviction. "I mean, even Ma liked her when we had dinner here. She helped Ma with her computer," he added. "Up until she found out Trixie was wearing an ID bracelet with the name JIM on it. I tried to explain to her that Trixie was not going out with him, she's not even going out with me, but you know how Ma is."

"Yup. Totally protective of us cubs. So what are you going to do?"

"Well, the nice honorable part of me is saying just to let it go. Be her friend. But the evil, nasty, twisted Aidan is saying he's not here and you are. Go for it!"

"Want some sisterly advice?"

He nodded. "It got to be better than the war stuff Dad told me." Kaitlin dissolved into gales of laughter. "Oh God. Dad gave you the keep your objective in mind speech?" She snorted. "Listen Aidan. Talk to her. Tell her you'd like to be more than friends. Don't try subterfuge. You should learn from my mistakes, Grasshopper."

"I will take it under advisement, oh wise and experienced sensei." He twined his arm around his sister's shoulder, and they both settled back on the creaky porch swing, enjoying the night and the closeness.

*_Total Eclipse of the Heart ©Bonnie Tyler Used w/o permission._

A/N: If you want to listen to Jim's ringtone, go to youtube and type in Westlife Total Eclipse of the Heart


	13. Chapter 13

Competition Chapter 13

The red-haired man sitting on the bench in the park-like setting of the Morningside Campus at Columbia University looked very relaxed. He was bent slightly forward, elbows on his thighs and hands dangling loosely between his knees. This was in direct contrast to his very busy and powerful brain that was concentrated on _figuring it all out_.

He loved this campus of the university. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine he was back in Sleepyside, the verdant grass and flowering trees reminding him so much of home. He felt a connection here, a peace that helped calm his heart and free his soul.

Dan and his sister Honey may have provided some insights into how other people viewed his relationship with one Beatrix Belden. They were not, however, inside his head; had no real idea of his life B.T. That's the way he always thought of it – everything up to the time he pointed a rifle at two young girls in a decrepit old mansion was _Before Trixie._

Dan surmised most of it. His biological family was as normal as any other; he adored his dad and loved his mom. They may not have had a lot of money, but he knew he was loved and he was as mischievous as only a ten-year old boy could be.

A shadow passed over his face; then the dark days came. His dad dying so suddenly and so young; his mother having to sell the encumbered small farm and moving to an apartment. It was cramped and cold and a prison to a young boy used to tramping the fields and woods with his dad. His mother was a shadow of herself, barely functioning enough to put food on the table for him. He had to man up, take care of his mom the way he knew his dad would want him to. A certain innocence lost too soon.

And then surprise! He didn't even know she was dating. Just a few months after his dad's death she brought that bastard into their cramped apartment. He had seen Jonesy around once or twice when his dad was alive, when Jonesy consulted Winthrop Frayne about soil conditions at his small truck farm. Jim always felt edgy around the man; he looked at Katie Frayne like he was hungry. A child couldn't understand the meaning behind that look, but he could understand it made him uneasy. And now she brought that big, brutish guy into their home and told Jim she was going to marry him, wasn't it just wonderful? He'd have a stepdad! And they would move to his farm! _Just like…before._

He hated her then with an intensity that startled him. Her sunken eyes begged him to understand, but he ran out of the apartment and into the mean streets of Rochester. How could she? Even now, his relaxed hands fisted, knuckles turning white with his rage. When he returned, hours later, exhausted with crying, with trying to run out his turbulent emotions, his mother was frantic, ready to call the police. Her eyes were reddened and puffy, and her head was on _his_ chest, _his _arms around her, comforting her when it should have been his dad. The feeling of revulsion was so overwhelming he barely made it to the bathroom.

When he exited the bathroom, cold, shaking and miserable, his mother went to go to him but Jonesy stopped her. He wanted to take care of it, he said to her gently, sent her off to rest. As soon as she went reluctantly into her bedroom, he grabbed Jim's arm and dragged him down the stairs and out into the street. He was stronger and bigger, and when he looked at Jim with those flat, dead eyes Jim was more frightened than he ever had been. "Listen here, you little punk." The words were engraved in Jim's brain. "I'm gonna marry your mom and there ain't nuthin' you can do about it. And if you're wise, you'll behave or I will make your life a total and complete hell." He slammed Jim up against the side of the building so hard he saw stars. The bruises on his arms didn't fade for days.

He hated her; he hated that monster she married and that hate burned bright in his gut as he poured everything he was into studies and the snarky, sullen attitude he affected with both of them. He wouldn't let her explain. He didn't care. He didn't want to know. He only wanted to hurt her, as deeply and as badly as she hurt him and the memory of his dad.

And then she got sick shortly after she and Jonesy were married. Just like Dan said, he _knew_ it was his fault. Divine retribution. Weren't all the best Greek tragedies stuffed full of it? His fault for all the nasty, horrible things he thought about her; his fault for not being a good son; his fault for not listening; his fault for sometimes wishing her dead and his dad gloriously alive. Jonesy watched him with those obsidian eyes, blaming him too. Blaming him for bringing the sickness down on Katie; blaming him for looking so like Win it was as if they were living with a ghost; blaming him for growing taller and stronger and knowing a day of reckoning would be coming. And sometime during the two years it took for the cancer to claim his mother, the agony she was in but downplayed for his sake, and the two years of utter and complete torture Jonesy put him through after her death, he changed. Two years of bargaining for his mother's life, being so good, so perfect; sublimating his utter hatred of her husband; two years after her death bargaining for a salvation that never came until he just picked up his things and left. And salvation did come, surprisingly in the guise of a petite, blonde curly-haired warrior.

Somewhere along the line, he lost that mischievous little boy and became the Jim he was now. A not-so-bad person, he mused. Hard-working, smart, friendly and oh, so honorable and boring; he was in danger of losing the girl he loved since he was 15 years old because he was afraid to commit his whole heart to her. Because everything he loved was taken away before he was 15. Everything his mother wasn't Trixie was – strong, fearless. Brilliant. But just as the cancer took his mother away, so could the very qualities he admired in Trixie take her away. How many times had she been kidnapped? Almost drowned? Almost been killed?

But that was who he loved, and that would be what he needed to accept. There was no sense in constructing a wall around that smidgen of heart not given to her yet. She deserved it all, and he was ready to stop making excuses and let go.

He peeked at the couples strolling the campus. Holding hands, kissing; all the things a normal couple in love (or lust, as the case may be) did on a daily basis without lashings of angst that deserved to be as dead and buried as the past.

Slouching back on the bench, he suddenly grinned; not the gentle, lopsided grin he usually gifted his friends with. No; this was radiating a dangerous sexiness, so much so a couple of co-eds walking by actually stopped and stared. Naughty Jim wanted to come out and play, for the first time in an exceedingly long time.

_Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild__*_

And Naughty Jim _only_ wanted to play with Trixie.

He stood, stretched his lanky frame, and began to plan. Trixie was his, always was and always would be. And he was going to make sure that she – and the rest of the world - had no doubts about that.

As Jim was coming to terms with his past and planning his future, Brian and Dan sat on the old, comfortable couch watching ESPN and eating dry bowls of cereal; Cap'n Crunch and Corn Pops respectively. Nothing like a little sugar rush to start the day! Dry, because one Martin Belden finished their supply of milk and did not bother to replenish it. Both were planning retribution, big time.

Losing interest in the latest scores and scandals, Brian turned to Dan. "Hey, has Jim seemed kind of weird to you these past couple of weeks?"

Waggling an eyebrow at Brian, Dan considered for a moment and gave his honest opinion. "Jim has seemed weird to me for the past 4 years. All that supple woodsman stuff."

"No, really, Dan." Giving up trying to eat the dry cereal with a spoon and losing most of it in the process, Brian just shoved his fingers in the bowl and crammed a handful in his mouth. So much for etiquette.

"Well, I don't know what you mean by weird. Like, believing he's been abducted by aliens weird or chewing on his toenails weird?" Seeing Mart come back into the land of the living from his extended sleep, Dan opined loudly, "I think your brother is much weirder."

Ignoring Dan's piercing comment, too sleepy to care, Mart opened the fridge and peered inside. "Hey! Where's all the milk?" he complained. A spinning pillow caught him right in the back of the head. "What?"

"You drank it all, you buy the next gallon or two. House rules. Until then, suffer like the rest of us." Brian had no sympathy. The extremely crispy Cap'n Crunch felt like it was shredding his palate.

Grabbing the entire box of Corn Pops and eschewing the niceties of a bowl, Mart plopped on the recliner and asked, "What's up?"

Hooking a thumb at Brian, Dan responded. "Your brother here thinks Jim has been acting weird lately."

Chewing thoughtfully, Mart waited until he had consumed several handfuls of the sweet and crunchy cereal. "Well, there was the towel incident yesterday. It's not normally like Jim to forget something as basic as, gee, _getting dressed_."

"He's been locking himself in his room a lot, too," added Brian. That itself was unusual. They all pretty much had an open door policy, except for the elaborate signals they worked out in case one or the other had some female company. Of course, most of the inhabitants of this particular apartment had no reason at all to use such signals save Dan. That was certainly expected to change in the fall, when the girls moved in across the hall. Brian tried his hardest not to think of Jim leading his sister into that room with a nice large queen-size bed at the ready, when in fact he would be doing the exact same thing with Honey. He hoped.

Things were certainly going to get complicated in the fall. Brian's dark brows drew together. "You know, I had dinner with Honey a while ago when she came into the City with her parents. She told me there was a new guy at school, and he seemed to like Trix a lot. I really wasn't paying attention. I wonder if Jim got wind of it." His mind slid a little sideways, more than happy Honey was old enough in her parents' eyes to rate a separate hotel room.

"Trix?" Mart snorted. "Unless the guy was tall, red-haired and green-eyed, I doubt if she'd give him a second look."

As they became absorbed in the television again, only Dan chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Do you like it here, Ma?" Kaitlin wondered if her mother would actually answer honestly. There was nothing like Siobhan in full isn't-this-the-most-wonderful-place-ever! mode. A few of the places they lived in were, to put it mildly, disgusting. Her mother tried to make each one an adventure. She giggled to herself remembering the house with the water stains on the ceiling. Siobhan organized them so that they all lay on the floor, staring up at the brown spots, deciding what each one resembled, and laughing like hysterical hyenas.

They were packing Siobhan's website orders, a task they did together so often there was no need for directions. Her mother paused at the demon computer, put her elbows on the desk and her face in her hands. "You know, Kait, I do. I have space to grow the business in; Dad is happy in White Plains and looking toward retirement. The neighbors are nice and Sleepyside just seems like such a magical place. I'd almost say the wee folk were here."

Kaitlin rolled her eyes, but her mouth curved in a gentle smile. "So what about this Trixie that Aidan is so over the moon about?" She noticed her mother's stiffening and frowned.

Siobhan huffed out a breath. "She's a lovely girl. Blonde, pretty, energetic, mannered. Smart, too. I really liked her at first." But a bracelet with the name JIM engraved on it and the possibility she was leading Aidan on…she really didn't think Trixie was that kind of girl.

"Ma, Aidan explained to me that she is not currently, or has in the past, dated _anyone_. Not even this mysterious Jim."

"Then why would he give her a bracelet with his name on it? And why would she wear it?"

"Who knows, Ma? Maybe it was some sort of local custom around here – we've seen enough of them in all the places we've been. Besides, why would she wear it openly if she was trying to snag Aidan? Not that my brother is God's gift to women."

Siobhan snorted at that. Ah, it was good to have her home. "When did he talk to you about all this?"

"Last night, on the porch. I was out there thinking and he came out with me." She paused and cast her eyes downward. "I'm really sorry, Ma. About Jake I mean, and the whole marriage thing. It started out as a little white lie and just grew and grew."

"Your dad was devastated," Siobhan informed her quietly. That's what really hurt most of all, hearing John pacing in the middle of the night; seeing the pain in his eyes whenever Kaitlin's name was mentioned.

"I know, Ma, I know. I'm so sorry. Do you think Daddy will ever forgive me? She sounded so much like a lost child, Siobhan had to blink back some tears.

"Oh, he forgave you the moment you said you were not married to Jake! What happened, Kait?" Last time she saw her daughter and Jake together, they were joined at the hip. It wasn't pleasant, but she knew Kait had that bad boy syndrome, and was wise enough not to debate about it. She'd learn soon enough that women were not reform schools.

Kaitlin slipped her hand through her hair, began playing with the ends. "Well, let's see, it could be the fact he is flunking out of college that turned me off. Or the drinking. But I think it mostly was finding him in bed with Stephanie that did it."

"Oh Kaitlin!" Dropping her box, Siobhan rushed to her daughter's side. "I'm so sorry, honey." Her slender hand stroked the long black hair, soothing her daughter's ruffled feelings.

Eyes just the tiniest bit bright, Kaitlin straightened up and declared, "I'm not. It's not like I was really in love with him anyway. I was planning on breaking up with him and this just gave me the push I needed."

Sealing up the last box and slapping on the label, Kaitlin turned to her mother. "_I_ am going to scope out Miss Trixie Belden, Girl Detective. I'm picking up Aidan today." With that, she turned and left the barn. God help Trixie if she was playing around with her brother's feelings.

*_From Total Eclipse of the Heart ©Bonnie Tyler_


	14. Chapter 14

Competition Chapter 14

Dan Mangan unfurled his long limbs from the Bob-White station wagon and thought to himself, _I must be certifiably insane. _ Yet there he was, sitting on the hood of the car, waiting for Trixie and Ian or whatever the hell his name was. A few hush-hush texts to Honey gleaned the 411 that Trix had tutoring today, and Jim-lite was probably going to drive her home. In the interest of not having his room-mate (the _real_ Jim) go ballistic and possibly take out the entire 14th floor, Dan was going to…sort of throw a monkey wrench into any plans Jim-lite had with Trix today. It wasn't really interfering. Just sort of reconnoitering. He just wanted to see his friend. Yup. That's all.

Preoccupied with his machinations, he didn't notice the Pathfinder park a few spaces away from him, or notice the girl until she stood directly in front of him.

He started at the sound of her raspy, sexy voice.

"Excuse me; is this the side of the building where the students exit?" Kaitlin eyed the young man slouched against the hood of the old station wagon with female appreciation. Tall, dark, lean, with melted chocolate eyes and that certain aura of repressed danger that thrilled her every time. She'd never learn.

"Yeah, they lock the other doors, so the kids that stay late exit on this side," he advised her in his deep voice. _That is some prime real estate right there._ The girl was as dark as he, with fair skin, grey-green eyes and very slender. Her mouth curved in a breathtaking smile and she extended her hand. "Kaitlin McCourt. My family just moved here. I'm picking up my younger brother."

"Dan Mangan. I'm picking up a friend. " _McCourt…I wonder…_

Aidan was getting frustrated. He couldn't get Trixie alone to talk to her. She was _always _with Diana Lynch, Honey Wheeler or both. Even at her locker, which he sneaked past several times. The math lab had other students today, so talking there was out. And Trixie caught on so fast, he was doubtful she would need another tutoring session.

Worst of all, his sister was picking them up today – at least he hoped they would be driving Trixie home. If she didn't miss the late bus, she'd probably just go home on it instead of with them. She wouldn't want to impose, especially since he told her about Kaitlin that night she came for dinner. He blew out a frustrated breath. The hallways they walked through were too public to do other than polite small talk. He absolutely needed to push his agenda with her, to find out if she _really_ was involved with this Jim guy, if he _really_ asked her to the prom. If she was _really_ going to go with him. He deliberately slowed his pace. If nothing else, he'd make sure she missed the bus.

James Winthrop Frayne II was a man on a mission. He gazed at the weathered green Atlas holding up a clock above the letters cutting deeply into the marble surrounding the entrance and curled his lips. Tiffany and Co., corner of 5th Avenue and 57th Street. Sometimes living in the City _really_ had advantages.

"Have you lived in Sleepyside long, Dan? It seems like such a quiet little village." Kaitlin definitely wanted to prolong this conversation with a very hot guy. It didn't seem like he was too averse to continuing the conversation either. She was experienced enough to recognize the gleam of male interest in his eyes. Maybe this move was a blessing.

Dan's lips tilted up at the corners. Quiet? Not when you're a friend of Trixie Belden. "Not as quiet as you might think," he responded, and rewarded her with a smile.

"Really? It seems so, I don't know, Norman Rockwell-ish. I.." she jerked her head around as she heard a loud squeal.

"Dan!" A petite blonde was running at them full speed, followed by her brother's more sedate pace and jealous expression. The blonde grabbed onto Dan in a tight hug, and he did the same, burying his face in her curls. "Hey Trix," he said, as if it was a common occurrence that he was there to greet her after class.

Aidan loped over to Kaitlin, his eyes gone stormy grey as he witnessed the charming reunion. _What, does she have a male harem? _ _First Jim and now Dan?_ Kaitlin's thoughts were running along the same lines, a disappointment clouding her eyes.

Dan slotted a quick glance at Aidan and noted the tumultuous emotions reflected in his eyes, especially jealousy. Kaitlin was not looking too happy either. As much as he would have liked to further antagonize Aidan by brushing his lips across Trixie's soft cheek, he also wanted to get to know Kaitlin a little better. He reluctantly released his hold on Trixie.

"Aidan, this is my friend Dan, a fellow Bob-White. Dan, this is Aidan McCourt, he's new in school and is tutoring me in Trig." Being Trixie, she gifted them with her dazzling smile. "And you must be Kaitlin, Aidan's sister. I recognize you from the photos at your house." Trixie did glance around to see if Kaitlin's husband was there. He wasn't. Her keen observation skills also noted the absence of rings on her left hand or tell-tale pale flesh left by recently removed ones. The mystery of the missing husband! She also noted with interest the vibes she was picking up between Dan and Kaitlin. Curiouser and curiouser.

Dan extended his hand to Aidan and resisted the urge to squeeze tightly. "Hi Aidan. I already met Kaitlin while we were waiting for you two tardy people."

Trixie wrinkled her nose and him and stuck out her tongue. "What are you doing at home in the middle of the week, Dan?" Her innate curiosity needed to be satisfied.

"Oh, I needed to do some errands for Mr. Maypenny." He had no qualms about lying through his teeth. "And then I thought I'd pick you up so you don't have to take the late bus."

Aidan was grinding his teeth. Her sapphire eyes were soft and shining with love at Dan, maybe only a brotherly type of gaze, but he was jealous of anyone she looked at with such affection.

Kaitlin had been silent, thoroughly checking out Miss Trixie Belden. She couldn't fault her brother's choice this time. The woman was absolutely gorgeous, if a total innocent. She didn't have it in her to play her brother off against anyone; of that Kaitlin was sure.

She cleared her throat and spoke to Trixie. "It's nice meeting you. Aidan told me a lot about you."

Trixie laughed. "I'm sure he was telling you all about my total lack of skills with Trigonometry!" She turned to him. "In fact he's such a great teacher that I am now totally versed in the mysteries of Trig, and only await the finals to put it behind me forever." She glanced at Dan. "Will you be here for a while? Why don't you come over to Crabapple Farm for dinner?" She graciously extended the same invitation to the brother and sister watching intently. "Moms won't mind."

Eager to prolong any time spent with Trixie, even chaperoned by his sister and Trixie's friend, Aidan accepted. "Just let me call my mother to make sure it's okay." At the same time, Trixie called home to advise her mother that, just like a few short years ago, there would be unexpected company for dinner.

Dan grasped Trixie's wrist after the phone calls were completed. "You can follow us to Crabapple Farm." Although he might have liked Aidan and Trixie to drive alone in the other car to pursue his mild flirtation with Kaitlin, he really needed to speak to Trix. Alone.

Jim exited Tiffany's with a spring to his step and a lightness of being. _That _was taken care of. Nothing like going to a high-end jeweler for first-class service. He pulled his cell phone out and made a phone call to Sleepyside, to a number he knew by heart. It was time for the next step in his plan. Miss Trixie Belden was not going to know what hit her.

Dan started the station wagon and carefully broached the subject with Trixie. He saw the way Aidan was staring at Trixie and the quick flare of jealousy in his eyes. Trixie, however, did not appear to reflect those feelings back at Aidan. But who knew? A lot could happen in the nine months or so since he moved to the apartment in the City. Take Trix. When he saw her practically every day at school, he never really catalogued any alteration in her appearance or her demeanor.

Gazing at her now, he was stunned to note her soft, longer spiraling curls that framed her beautiful face. Her freckles had faded and she had a rose and gold complexion that just begged a man's fingers to softly touch it; to discover if her skin was as velvety as it looked. Her eyes were the deep blue of delphiniums, framed by long, sandy eyelashes that were bare of mascara. Her lips were full and pink and just made for kissing.

_And he better stop thinking about Jim's girl in that way. No wonder Aidan was absolutely bowled over. _

He cleared his throat. "So, how are things going, Trix?" Great. He sounded so unlike himself that he was surprised Trixie didn't call him on it. Instead, she was peering out the window, lost in thought. "Trix?"

"Hmmm? Oh, okay, Dan."

"You seem a million miles away."

_No, more like 50 miles away in a big city with bright lights. _"Just woolgathering. You know me." She fidgeted in her seat and chewed on her bottom lip, sure signs she was agitated about something.

"So, what's the deal with Mr. Can't-take-his-eyes-off-you?" He slanted a quick glance over to the passenger seat and saw the vibrant red tinge her cheeks.

"He's my math tutor, Dan, and a new friend. I don't really know him all that well."

"He certainly looks at you like he would like to get to know you a lot better."

"Ah, Dan, you know guys…they…they don't really like me like that," she responded slowly. But that was a lie. That small, gentle kiss proved Aidan just might like her, like _that._ And it was becoming more and more obvious that maybe, just maybe, Jim really liked her like _that. _

If he could have, Dan would have banged his head off the steering wheel. _Man, we all really did a number on her self-esteem. _ Becoming quiet, he thought of the many times Honey and Di were described as beautiful, stunning, graceful and ladylike. And Trixie: sturdy; clumsy; a tomboy without any ladylike qualities at all.

Trying to lighten the mood, Dan quipped through the lump lodged firmly in his throat, "Well, _Miss_ Belden, I think you are wrong about that! I'm a guy and I know exactly what he was thinking!"

"Well, ESP should come in very handy when you are on the force!" she retorted, relieved they were not going to pursue a serious line of questioning. She turned to him and decided to turn the tables. "What was that little vibe I was picking up between you and Kaitlin?"

"Pretty girl and I am obviously a very hot guy."

Trixie choked back her laughter. "Be careful, Dan," she warned. "According to Aidan, she's married."

"What?" Dan was incredulous. "She's _married_?" He asked the question in the same tone he'd use to ask Trixie if she had all her marbles if she told him she was joining a biker gang. _No way._ He prided himself on his ingrained radar for married entanglements.

"I'm not sure, Dan. I know Aidan and his folks were totally bummed out about it. But she's not wearing any rings and she doesn't have any pale skin where she might have taken them off. I think there's more to this story."

Dan slapped himself lightly on the head. "Oh no! Not another Trixie Belden mystery!" Dan exclaimed as he turned into Crabapple Farm. The SUV following them did the same, as Trixie dialed Honey's cell phone and asked her to dinner. The more the merrier, she thought, as Honey happily accepted. She never once considered that she was introducing a lot of people to stand between Aidan and her. And a small, one-sided kiss that somehow, unbidden, felt like cheating.

Kaitlin, however, was gently ribbing her brother for his unguarded jealousy during the ride to Crabapple Farm. "C'mon Aidan, anyone within a 30-mile radius could see the caveman attitude. I thought you were more evolved than that!"

_I thought I was too._ He didn't voice the thought aloud, as a faint pink flush stained his cheeks. "Yeah, and you're certainly getting over Jake real fast," he shot back. "You're interested in Trixie's friend."

"He's hot and I may be hurt a bit, but I ain't dead." Jake may have done a number on her, especially with that slut Stephanie, but there was always another guy just around the corner. Loads of them, really. She did want to question her brother about something Trixie said, something that was puzzling her. "Aidan, when Trixie introduced Dan. She said he was a…a pheasant or something…"

"Bob-White. Didn't you see the lettering on the station wagon? Bob-Whites of the Glen. It's some sort of club they created when they were just kids. Trixie, Honey Wheeler, Diana Lynch, Jim Frayne and I guess Dan and Trixie's two brothers."

"The mysterious Jim that has Ma so upset with Trixie?"

"Yeah. Mr. Wonderful himself. Apparently there's nothing in the world he can't do and do it well," he muttered sarcastically.

Kaitlin followed the wagon into the long driveway, and retorted, "Well, apparently there is something he can't do at all well. And she's getting out of the car now."

Aidan stared at the pretty blonde examining her cell phone with a certain intensity. He was unprepared for the rose blush that tinted her expressive face and made her so much more beautiful in his eyes. Her slender fingers typed out a response, and she clicked the phone shut, looking rather dazed.

_Hey Schoolgirl Shamus, I hope you had a great day. Got a late class tonight, almost my last one this year. I can't wait to see your pretty blue eyes again. Pleasant dreams tonight _

She responded quickly and with a certain bravado she wouldn't be able to sustain if they were face to face or speaking on the phone. _They're always pleasant when I dream of you._

50 miles away, in a city teeming with eight million people and just as many stories, one man's fist pumped a "YES!" and walked to his class, trying not to imagine a certain blonde woman, asleep in her virginal bed, in a certain small town, dreaming of him. And what he would so desperately like to do to wake her, up close and in person.


	15. Chapter 15

Competition Chapter 15

Trixie burst into the house, followed closely by Dan, Aidan and Kaitlin. Helen looked up at her effervescent daughter, and wondered briefly if there was a way to bottle all that energy. There should be; after all, this was the new millennium. And then she saw Dan. A smile lit her face, as she moved to hug the man she considered another son. "Dan!" Her soft lips brushed his cheek.

Dan enveloped her in a tight hug and was definitely surprised to feel moisture gathering in his eyes. She was his mother for all intents and purposes, and he loved her as such. For a moment, he was overwhelmed by feelings he hadn't had for, well, just about ever. "Mrs. Belden, good to see you."

Aidan and Kaitlin stood off to one side, one charmed by and one a little spooked by the reunion. Kaitlin saw the man drop his guard with the pretty lady who looked so much like an older Trixie, and that dangerous vibe softened into something else entirely. Aidan saw yet another strong link in the seemingly unbreakable chain between Trixie and the Bob-Whites, and therefore, Trixie and Jim.

"Moms, Honey's coming over too." Trixie turned to Aidan and Kaitlin. "You know Aidan, and this is his older sister Kaitlin. She's back from college."

"I remember Aidan, nice to see you again, and welcome to Sleepyside, Kaitlin," Helen smiled. While Kaitlin was murmuring a greeting, Helen picked up on the sidelong glances Dan and Kaitlin thought they were hiding from each other. She also noticed the tense way Aidan's eyes followed Trixie's every move, and sensed a certain frustration.

"Trixie, why don't you take Kaitlin upstairs to freshen up? Dan and Aidan, Peter's grilling some hamburgers and onions," she handed Dan a platter, and Aidan a large bowl. "If you'd be so kind as to take those out to him, then Dan, you can show Aidan the downstairs bathroom so you can both wash up."

"C'mon Kait, follow me." Trixie led Kaitlin up the stairs and laughingly cautioned her to watch out for the squeaky one. Kaitlin gazed around the charming farmhouse whose walls just seemed to echo with good times. "This is my room Kaitlin. The bathroom is right over there. I'm just going to put my bookbag down in here, and when you are done, I'll go in."

Kaitlin made short work of washing her face and hands, and stepped back out and into the bedroom as Trixie went in for her turn. It wasn't very girly. There were two beds with antique, hand-made floral quilts, a nightstand with several pictures on it, a tall dresser and a longer one with an attached mirror. _And on the dresser was a silver bracelet._

Kaitlin went to pick it up, but was arrested by the several pictures right next to it. One showed seven people, obviously much younger, in front of some sort of ramshackle shed. They all had matching red jackets on. Of particular interest to Kaitlin was the tall redheaded boy standing very close to Trixie. The mysterious Jim.

There were several more pictures of various members of the group and the group itself at different times in their lives. But the one that caught Kaitlin's eye was a candid taken at what obviously was a prom. The tall redheaded boy had matured into a tall, handsome man who did more than justice to the tux he was wearing. The photographer caught them at an unguarded moment. Trixie, in that spectacular black dress looking like some old-time movie star and Jim, elegant in his tux with a Cary Grantish sort of vibe. What was mirrored in their faces was not a puppy love. Kaitlin was sure she was witnessing the real thing. Her parents looked at each other that way, every day of their lives.

As she heard Trixie exit the bathroom, Kaitlin quickly swept her hand against the silver bracelet and knocked it to the floor. "Oh, Trixie!" She bent and scooped it up. It was an inexpensive piece of costume jewelry, with JIM engraved in bold letters. One of the links had snapped. "I'm sorry, I think I broke your bracelet." She held it out in the palm of her hand.

Trixie hastened to reassure her. "No, it was broken earlier." She carefully took the object from Kaitlin, held in her own hand, and unconsciously caressed the bracelet. "I'm surprised it didn't break before." She touched her finger to the broken link.

"Are you dating the guy that gave this to you?"

Trixie started. How could she explain Jim to Kaitlin? "Jim is Honey's brother. He gave the bracelet to me years ago after one of our adventures. I was only 14," she said simply, as if that answered the question. She replaced it on her dresser. "Let's go downstairs, I'm starved." Just like that, she shut off any further questioning about the status of their relationship.

Honey was already there, making a big, fresh salad. She looked up in interest as Trixie led the other woman back into the kitchen. Briefed by Helen Belden, she studied Aidan's sister. "I'm Honey Wheeler," she smiled at her.

And suddenly, it all clicked for Kaitlin as she smiled back at Honey.

Honey Wheeler. A big house on a hill. Sleepyside on the Hudson. Jim aka James Winthrop Frayne II. Honey and Jim were the children of Matthew Wheeler, sole owner of Wheeler/Hart International and one of the richest men in North America. That could only mean Di was Diana Lynch, daughter of Edward Lynch, also insanely wealthy. She knew all about them, studied them in business classes. There was scarcely any personal information other than what was carefully orchestrated by their publicists. Jim was the Wheelers' adopted child, son of his best friend in college, but could have passed for Matthew Wheeler's biological son.

And here she was, in a homey kitchen in a town in New York, about to sit down with one of the heirs to an unimaginable fortune who was calmly and competently making a salad for her.

Siobhan McCourt was correct, Kaitlin mused silently. There was magic in this small, sleepy village. She was amazed the town was not crawling with paparazzi examining every move of the heirs apparent. "Can I help?" she offered, as Aidan came through the door with a fragrant bowl of grilled onions, followed by Dan with the biggest platter of hamburgers she had ever seen.

"Got it covered," Honey said sweetly, as Trixie placed the condiments and homemade salad dressings on the large table. A tall, handsome older man with hair as black as hers followed the boys in. Trixie's dad.

Peter Belden was no dummy. He saw Dan and Kaitlin's little glances at each other. He also saw the hunger in Aidan's eyes when he looked at Trixie. Fortunately for Peter, but unfortunately for Aidan, Trixie didn't seem to notice at all. At least _Jim_ had the grace to try and mask it some of the time when he was there. He liked Jim Frayne. He liked him a lot, and saw far more than his wife or children gave him credit for. Jim's eyes followed his daughter from the time she was 13 years old, and Peter knew that the time was coming when Jim would finally make a move. He only hoped Trixie could wait. He'd love Jim for a son-in-law. _Someday. _

Mr. James Winthrop Frayne II, subject of so much speculation 50 miles away, could barely concentrate in his class. The willpower that he drew on for so many years was evaporating; in its wake was a bone-deep hunger for his special girl. He was tired of sleepless nights, haunted by her blue eyes and sunny smile. Of dreams of her in his arms, only to awaken in his bed, arms empty and his body screaming for release. He was tired of merely existing; he wanted, no, needed, Trixie in order to be complete. He fidgeted in his seat, his eyes deepening to a startling emerald green. Several of his classmates noticed the unusual behavior of the normally scrupulous and studious man, and wondered why the honorable Jim Frayne was so very, very distracted.

The subject of his wayward contemplation was sitting at her supper table, letting conversation flow around her for a while. Her mother and father loaded their plates and went into the den to catch a television program they were stuck on. Honey and Dan, by silent assent, foiled Aidan's efforts to sit next to Trixie by stationing themselves on either side of her.

She was brought to attention by Dan's bald statement to Kaitlin. He was nothing if not direct at times. "So, Kaitlin," he began, "Trixie tells me you are married."

Kaitlin placed her hamburger back on the paper plate and colored. Well, it was her fault. If she hadn't let her disappointment and temper get the best of her, she wouldn't have to confess to a bunch of relative strangers what an idiot she was.

She slanted a glance at her brother, who gave her a small, encouraging smile. "No, I'm not married," she confessed quietly, looking across at Trixie and failing to see the flare in Dan's eyes. "I, um, my Dad is regular Army, a recruiting officer now. You know what they say about Army brats. I got really tired of being transferred every couple of years. I let my temper get away from me and a little white lie snowballed into a big mess."

Honey, tactful as ever, smoothed the way. "I think we've all been in that situation one way or another. Would you like some more salad?"

Kaitlin gratefully smiled her acquiescence. Okay. Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous now knows she isn't married. That's one step in the right direction. "I'm thinking of transferring to a school down here from Maine," she blurted out, much to her brother's surprise.

"Really, Kait? Did you talk to Ma and Dad?" Nothing would make Aidan happier than to have his sister close to home, except maybe kissing Trixie again – and this time with her energetic participation. It looked like that was definitely out of the question, at least today. He couldn't help feeling that her friends were doing everything possible to keep him separated from her.

"No, not yet Aidan. I just sort of began thinking about it when Ma told me we're here in Sleepyside to stay." It wouldn't hurt that Sleepyside was Dan's home, either.

"Trixie, Dan and I are all attending the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in the City," Honey offered. "Jim is in Columbia and Brian and Mart, Trixie's older brothers, are at NYU. There are a lot of colleges in the City and great ones too. What's your major?"

"I really want to go into the fashion business. I was thinking of transferring to the Fashion Institute of Technology." FIT was part of the State University of New York and a leader in the fashion field. Slyly, she added, "Aidan was accepted to the New York Institute of Technology to study computer science and game design."

"You should talk to my brother Bobby," Trixie spoke up, aiming those amazing blue eyes right into the grey-green ones across the table. "I swear, he can beat anything and make our computer sing!"

"What are the three of you studying at John Jay?" It would be nice and cozy if all of them were in New York City. She wasn't misreading the little signals Dan was giving out.

"Criminal justice!" Honey laughed. "I'll let Dan answer for himself, but Trix and I want to open our own detective agency in the future. We're going to see where this leads us. We don't want to be the kind of agency checking on people's cheating spouses." That was the conundrum they faced. That sort of investigating would definitely pay the bills, but they wanted to go after the _criminals_. "We'll probably both end up in law school!"

"And you, Dan?" Kaitlin couldn't help the flutter of her lashes, and the matching dance of the butterflies in her stomach. God, he was just so _hot_.

"Well, I used to think I wanted to be a big-city cop. Maybe I still do. But a part of me wants to partner up with the girls and do some real investigating." The kind of investigating where some street skills could come in mighty handy, he thought with a devilish grin.

As the class slowly filed out of the lecture hall, Jim, preoccupied, totally missed the shout. "Jim! Hey Jim! Wait up!" Mike Seaver shook his head. Jim's fidgety moves distracted him a few times during the lecture. He finally grabbed onto Jim's arm and halted his swift stride.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?" Mike searched those amazing green eyes that most of the girls in the class sighed over at one time or another. Usually reflecting his sharp intelligence, they were clouded and unfocused, as if Jim were peering at something only he could see.

"Huh? Oh, sorry Mike," Jim sheepishly apologized. "My mind was a million miles away."

"Not a good thing in New York City, man. Is anything wrong? I noticed you were having a hard time in there." They were in several classes together and struck up a friendly acquaintance.

Jim slipped his long, slender fingers into his front pockets as they walked towards the campus bus stop. "No, just missing my girl," he said quietly.

Mike was astonished. _Jim Frayne_ had a girlfriend? He'd seen some of the most beautiful girls practically throw themselves in his path, with absolutely no reaction. In fact, some of their classmates had a pool going on. They were sure he was gay.

"Does she go to school in the City?"

"Nope. She's back home." _Waiting for me, I hope._ "She's graduating high school soon."

Wow. This got better and better. The studly and pursued Mr. Frayne was sighing and dreaming about his _high-school sweetheart_? Geez, if Mike couldn't write a bad romance novel now. He _had_ to find out more.

"Um, so how long…"

"Since I was 15 and she was 13." He didn't know why he was sharing this with Mike. He only knew that speaking it out loud made it that much more real. "She's got the prettiest blue eyes," he sighed. In fact, he felt…liberated, talking about Trixie. It wasn't like he could talk to Brian about her, and his deep feelings and darkest, most decadent desire for her.

Oh my. Jim certainly had it bad. Mike wondered if he should join the pool, now that he had all this inside information. Nah, wouldn't be kosher, he decided. "Do you have a picture?" He _had_ to see the woman that made Jim Frayne sigh.

Oh, he had _the_ picture all right. Not one he was going to show Mike. He did remove his wallet and display his favorite picture from last summer. Trixie, sitting at the picnic table by the lake, her chin in her hands and laughing at something. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts as a cover up, and it slid down one slender shoulder, exposing her creamy skin and delicate collarbone. Her blonde curls were all tousled and those amazing sapphire eyes were sparkling with…love?

Mike let out a low whistle. No wonder Jim didn't look twice at any of the co-eds here. What he had at home beat them by a mile. His girlfriend was gorgeous – without a trace of make-up or artifice. She radiated a sort of sexy innocence that was a complete turn-on.

"That's my Trixie," he said proudly. "Not only is she beautiful outside, but inside as well, even more so. And she is an amazingly gifted detective. She'll be going to John Jay with my sister."

"Oh come on Jim, that delicate, sexy little thing? A detective?"

Jim's lips tilted up at the corners. "She's my warrior, Mike. She's probably put more crooks in jail than some of the rookie cops." Suddenly, in a hurry to get back to his apartment, Jim signaled for one of the cabs that drove the streets of New York incessantly. "Want to share?"

"Nah, I'm going to the dorms, have a great night." Oh man. Mike couldn't wait to spill to his friends and classmates about the unavailable and mysterious Mr. Frayne. Oh yeah. He'd be the hit of the dorms tonight, pontificating about Jim's blonde, sexy little number back home. Neither man noticed the quick snaps of a telephoto lens in the distance.

Clean-up was quick and easy at the Farm; mostly paper plates and disposable forks. It was almost a sacrilege, Honey thought, remembering what seemed like hours of washing and drying dishes by hand. Sometimes, a quick kiss with Brian followed by a dollop of suds on his or her nose. Gleeps, she missed him terribly. To the world he seemed boring Brian Belden, but she knew different. He was an adventurous, considerate, and inventive lover. Just his touch drove her wild.

She glanced over at Trixie, drying the meager dishes that there were and putting them away. Aidan, Kaitlin and Dan were conversing at the table in quiet voices. Sometimes Honey just wanted to shout to the world about her Brian; to share with Trixie all the things that women do. But she couldn't after all; Brian was Trixie's brother. So Di and she became confidants about the amazing Belden brothers and their kisses.

Honey slanted another topaz glance over at Trix; she was awfully quiet today. Honey was not blind; she could see how Aidan simply watched Trixie all the time, his heart shining right out of his eyes, if you knew what you were looking for. She searched Trixie's face, a face she knew almost as well as her own, but found no response in her big blue eyes. She was still sleeping, Honey decided, and hoped against hope that Jim would be the one to awaken her.

Aidan and Kaitlin regretfully stood up; they stayed much longer than anticipated and it was still a school night for him. Dan also rose and stretched, shooting a quick grin at Trixie. "Hey Trix do you and Honey, want to drop me off at the train station? That way you'll have the wagon for tomorrow if you decide not to take the bus."

"Oh, Aidan and I will drop you off," offered Kaitlin. After all, they were closer to town than Trixie and Honey. It wouldn't be too much out of their way. And she would spend some additional time with the fascinating Daniel Mangan.

"That would be fine, if you sure I'm not imposing." Great. A chance to be with Kaitlin a few more minutes, topped off by the silly game of keep-away he and Honey were playing with Aidan. Dan grinned. Aidan was getting more frustrated by the minute. It wasn't nice, it wasn't in the Bob-White spirit, but it sure was fun.

"Trix, I'll take the car back up to the house," Honey was telling Trixie. Most of the time the girls took the bus in to school. The wagon was getting older and cranky, and without the guys home for mechanical issues, they avoided having to call the Roadside Assistance every time it burped.

After thanking Helen and Peter Belden and exclaiming over the deliciousness of the hamburgers, the little group went outside. "I'll drive," Kaitlin announced, and Dan immediately pounced. "Shotgun!"

"See you tomorrow, Honey," Trixie sidled over to the station wagon as Honey got in the driver's seat. As she walked back to the Pathfinder, Aidan finally caught up with her. Dan looked up to see Aidan's long fingers tug on one of Trixie's curls.

"Hey, Trix, thanks for the great meal and thanks for not making Kaitlin uncomfortable about…you, know, her fake marriage and all." He reached out and gently tugged on one of her soft, golden curls. It sprang back immediately, and he stared at it in stupefied fascination.

She took a step back. "Um, no problem, Aidan. I've often let my temper overrule my better judgment," she said with a rueful smile. His wayward, itching fingers gently brushed across her high cheekbone, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

This time, she was prepared. As his mouth aimed for hers, she turned her head so that his lips brushed her cheek, with the same exquisite gentleness he brushed her lips with a few days ago. She touched his arm and quietly said her goodbye, walking up the few steps to the porch and watching him get into the car.

Warring emotions were storming through Dan. He saw the whole thing, saw Aidan aim for Trixie's mouth and saw her turn her face at the last moment. He found he really did not like the sight of someone else's fingers touching her curls; did not like the predatory gleam in Aidan's eyes; it was not evolved, it was not right, but Trixie was reserved for _Jim_. He swore under his breath, loud enough for Kaitlin to hear and have her turn questioning eyes upon him.

"Slammed the door on my knee," he lied, unwilling to look her in the eye. Quite a situation here: he was vastly attracted to the sister of guy he wanted to punch out on behalf of his friend.

Aidan got into the back seat without saying a word. A quick peek in the rearview mirror by Kaitlin revealed the mulish pout and set lines of her brother's face. She sighed softly. It was going to be a long ride to the train station, and a longer one home. It didn't appear that Aidan was going to win this competition so easily. Jim Frayne's long shadow cast its shroud all the way from New York City.


	16. Chapter 16

Competition Chapter 16

Jim was up early, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of black coffee and trying to read the _New York Times_, when Dan casually sauntered in. Greeting each other with a grunt, Dan inserted a k-cup in the brewer and waited for instant gratification. Less than a minute later, he had a steaming mug of caffeinated bliss. Sighing happily, he sank down on a chair and took a scalding sip.

He eyed Jim over the rim of his cup and through the steam. To the unobservant, it would appear that Jim was actually reading the paper. If one bothered to look closely enough, one would note his emerald eyes were unfocused and he was seeing something far beyond black and white print. Dan correctly guessed what was preoccupying his friend so early in the morning.

_Trixie_. Today was the day that a package would arrive at Crabapple Farm, courtesy of FedEx and Tiffany's. He was rather nervous about Trixie's reaction. Looking back over the past couple of weeks, he realized they were more flirty and personal with each other than when they were face-to-face. The anonymity of technology was allowing them to advance their relationship in small increments. Except he really wanted to be there, in Sleepyside, with his hands and mouth on her, and hers on him. He needed to touch her as badly as he needed to breathe, and it was becoming more difficult every day to stay away. He only hoped that she felt the same way.

"I went to Sleepyside yesterday," Dan announced without preamble. He waited to see Jim's reaction.

Jim looked up sharply from the paper, an unasked question in his eyes. He would not verbally ask Dan why he felt it was necessary to impart this nugget of information, or why Dan suddenly chose to go home. To do so would give Dan the upper hand, and he wasn't about to do _that_ again.

Dan waited a beat for Jim to ask, was disappointed that he did not follow up with the questions that were so clearly on the tip of his tongue. Taking another fortifying sip of coffee, he offered up another sliver of information. "I saw Trixie. And Honey. And Aidan and his sister - that's the guy who likes Trix." Still no response, although Jim was clearly clenching his jaw as a vein pounded furiously in his temple. "At dinner. At Crabapple Farm."

Jim's eyes narrowed to thin, green slits and his fist tightened around the mug, snapping off the jaunty handle. He bit out a nasty little four letter word that he used only very rarely, and then only in times of great emotional distress.

Dan raised his eyebrows, pleased that he finally got a rise out of the normally cool and collected James Winthrop Frayne II. Settling back in his chair, he began his monologue.

"I picked up Trixie from school, you know." Of course, Jim didn't know this but kept quiet. To interrupt Dan in a loquacious mood would mean losing the thread of the story and Dan meandering all over the place instead of getting to the meat of what he really wanted to know.

_What the hell was Ian or Aidan whatever his name is doing at Crabapple Farm?_

"It was her last tutoring session with Aidan. He said she picks up things _really_ quickly." It was said so suggestively that Jim had to restrain himself from punching Dan one right in the face. Because in a split second, he could imagine that bastard teaching Trixie every freaking personal thing he wanted _them_ to learn, together. "Of course, he and his sister – by the way, a very pretty lady – were going to give Trix a ride home. But since I brought the wagon, there was no need to do that." Jim allowed the corners of his lips to tilt up at that statement.

"But you know Trix! She was so excited to see me, and so happy that her tutoring was ending that she ended up asking all of us over for hamburgers. She called Honey too. I had a very _interesting_ evening at the Farm." Dan stopped there. If Jim wanted to know more, he had to ask.

He really didn't want to, but he simply could not help himself. "What do you mean by interesting, Dan? Did you talk about world economics? Sasquatch? Who is going to win _American Idol_?"

Dan drummed his fingers on the table and took another sip of his rapidly cooling coffee. How much could he disclose, how much should he disclose to the volatile Mr. Frayne? Dan decided to put him out of his misery. "Well, let's see. We found out his very pretty – did I mention that – sister lied about being married. It seems she has a bit of Trixie's impulsiveness."

"Why on earth would someone lie about being married?" Jim honestly didn't care, but it seemed a bit weird that a mere acquaintance was admitting to such a whopper. Maybe there was insanity in Ian's family. That would be swell.

"Ah, it seems that she was really pissed at her parents, especially Daddy, for making them move again. Ergo, a little truth stretching turns into a major family crisis. And Trixie. Oh our Trixie solved another mystery. At Aidan's house, when she went there for dinner."

"What kind of a mystery?" _She went over to his house for dinner. By herself. Unguarded. And had a little mystery to boot._ Jim barely restrained himself from banging his head off the kitchen table.

"Did Trix tell you his family bought the old Van der Wold place? Anyway, it turns out that it was the first place that the Sunderland guy from Rosewood Hall built before he moved to Croton. There was a secret room, sort of similar to the one in Rosewood Hall. Of course Trix figured it all out and found the panel. She made quite the impression on the McCourt family. No emeralds or," Dan paused, looking meaningfully at Jim, "No locket with a picture inside. Just some old papers and a battered tin bowl."

Dan continued. "He looks at her, Jim. Just like she's some delicious meal, ready for him to devour." _Just like you do._ Jim let out a low growl and clenched his fists. Dan leaned his elbows on the table and laced his fingers. "She doesn't look back, Jim. Not one little bit. I gotta say it was kinda fun in a sort of perverse way. He was so frustrated, and she was just merrily being Trixie. If she thinks anything more of him than just a guy friend, I'll eat the Sunday _Times_." Dan saw Jim relax his hands, those large, strong, dangerous hands, hesitated, and went in with the last bit of information. "But, he tried to kiss her, you know. Right in front of Honey and me."

Jim exploded. "What!" He stood up so fast, the chair went toppling over. He was struggling with the famous, albeit infrequent, Frayne temper. He picked up the chair and righted it, ever so gently, when in fact he felt like tossing it right out the kitchen window. He could imagine it was the guy who dared, absolutely dared to put his lips on Trixie, falling 14 floors down to a satisfying splat. He was taking deep, calming breaths before he ran out of that apartment and straight to Sleepyside. On foot.

Dan realized that he made a strategic error. Instead of being able to gently rib Jim, he had incited Jim's possessive nature. It wasn't exactly _evolved_ of Jim, but hey, Dan could understand it. He was sure if Trixie and Jim had been dating, were secure in a relationship, Jim could have laughed it off. But he was here and she was in Sleepyside, still locked in a sort of unholy limbo state. He stared into Jim's turbulent green eyes and saw what he suspected: Jim was losing some of the icy control he maintained over his emotions. Like jealousy.

"She turned her head, Jim. She saw what was coming, what he wanted to do and she turned away. He and his sister gave me a ride to the train station. He was pretty sulky in the car. I'm sure he's not used to getting the brush-off."

"As long as she keeps brushing him off," Jim ground out. "I'm freaking tired of this Dan."

"Jim, what did you expect? Have you really, really looked at Trix lately? Sometime over the last several months, she really grew up. Hell, if you weren't one of my best friends, I'd try to date her myself. She has absolutely no vanity, has no idea how naturally gorgeous she is. In fact, when I mentioned something to her about Aidan, she laughed it off. She…" and this part was hard for Dan to say. "She thinks guys don't like her in 'that way.'" He used his fingers for air quotes.

Jim straddled his poor, abused chair, his arm across the back. "She…she said something like that to me too when we had an argument. I just sort of ignored it."

Dan said quietly, "The only thing she is really confident about is that she wants to put the bad guys away, and she's very, very good at it. I'm not sure what would happen if she actually realized the power she has."

Jim looked confused. "Power? What power?"

"Woman power, Jim. God, if Trix harnessed half of what she has, I'm sure every male in Sleepyside and the surrounding communities would be groveling at her feet. She has that sort of, I don't know, that innocent sexy thing going on. Like Marilyn Monroe. Or sort of like Sleeping Beauty, waiting for Prince Charming to come and kiss her and awaken all that lies dormant. Like, you know, she's a volcano with all that boiling hot lava just beneath the surface." Dan sighed. "_You're_ the lucky dog who is going to reap the benefits when um, she does erupt."

For a moment, just a moment, Jim was not sitting at his kitchen table having a rather embarrassing conversation about Trixie with Dan again, of all people. Instead, he was imagining Trixie erupting. _Naked_. In _his_ bed, calling _his _name. He closed his eyes and willed the tantalizing fantasy away, even as his face flushed with longing. The days before he could see her stretched before him: bleak, desolate and interminable.

Trixie made a conscious effort to avoid Aidan at school today. She really needed to talk to him, but could not decipher a way to bring up the subject of him…and her…and Jim. She was absolutely astounded when he bent to kiss her again right in front of Honey, Dan and Kaitlin. Her emotions were so mixed. Embarrassment that he would publicly display this sort of affection in front of her friends; a dark thrill that shot through her because he obviously found her attractive enough to want to kiss again; sadness because he was nice and honorable and everything some girl should want. But she wasn't that girl. He didn't have freckles and emerald green eyes and red hair; the sound of his voice didn't make her _want_.

Helen broke into her reverie as she hung up her bookbag. "Trix, you have a FedEx box and some mail on the foyer table." Helen was surprised by the delivery – she didn't remember ordering anything – until she saw the name of the recipient and the sender's name – Tiffany & Co. Inc. Jim. It had to be Jim. But what could he possibly send to Trixie from _Tiffany's_? Her curiosity was slowly killing her.

Up in her room, Trixie's heart began to pound frantically against her ribcage. She saw her name on the box, saw where it came from. She was absolutely, positively certain that neither Brian, Mart nor Dan would send her something from Tiffany's. That left Jim. He knew she didn't really wear jewelry, and Tiffany's was renowned for their exquisite and pricey gems.

She opened the box slowly, her palms sweaty. Inside was a pretty note card with the front of the Tiffany Store. She put that aside, and looked at the long box. Hands shaking, she opened it up.

It was a bracelet. A shiny, delicate bracelet with a tablet; the polished tablet was engraved. "James Winthrop Frayne II" it said. She ran her fingertip over it, eyes filling with tears. _He did get it to fit on_ she thought wildly, and picked the beautiful object up.

Her sensitized fingertips felt the depressions on the other side of the engraved name. Turning the tablet over, she read the inscription. _If I know what love is, it is because of you._

_Jim_ sent her this. _Jim_ had this engraved especially for her. She picked up the card and opened it.

Dear Trixie:

I hope this bracelet can, in some small way, replace the one I bought you when we went adventuring in Happy Valley. You see, I did fit it all on, just like I said I would.

There's a difference with this bracelet. It won't be apparent to the naked eye, but it's made of titanium, unbreakable links to our past and our future, just like the invisible, unbreakable links that fuse us together, and stretch all the way from Sleepyside to New York City.

Please wait for me, Trix. I'll be home soon. I hope you'll always be my special girl.

Love,

Jim

She stood up from her bed and walked downstairs in a daze. Helen was waiting for her, trying to appear busy, but so curious about the box with a Tiffany return address. Trixie walked into the kitchen and said in a tone that Helen never heard from her exuberant daughter, "Jim sent me this bracelet, Moms. From Tiffany's. One of the links broke on my old one, the one that said Jim." She held out the shiny object to her mother.

Oh, my. It wasn't the fact that the tablet was inscribed with Jim's whole name, a sure sign of him staking a much larger claim on her daughter. It was the saying on the back. _If I know what love is, it is because of you._ Helen looked up into her daughter's bemused eyes. "What…what do you think that means, Moms?" she stuttered out. She had to sit down. Her knees suddenly would not support her body; she felt the words all the way down in the core of her, a delicious heat spreading all through her limbs.

"I think that is something you'll have to discuss with Jim, Trixie." Of course she knew what it meant. It meant that Jim returned every bit of love that Trixie's stretchy heart contained for him, not that Helen ever doubted it. She put her arms around her daughter and squeezed, her eyes shining with unshed tears. It was going to be hard enough for Peter and her to let Trixie go off to college. It was going to be harder to watch her step from their protective arms into Jim's strong ones. And she would, sooner rather than later.

Helen sat next to Trixie; ran her slender fingers gently over Trixie's knuckles. "What are you going to do about Aidan, honey? It was more than obvious last night that he likes you, Trixie."

"I don't know Moms! I like him, as a friend. I don't want to hurt him. Maybe if I didn't…maybe if Jim wasn't a factor, I could like him the way he likes me. How can I explain to him something I'm not even sure of?"

"Trixie. You don't owe him any explanations about anything, especially you and Jim. You aren't in a relationship with Aidan. I'm sure you never led him on. The only thing you owe him is to tell him that you see him as a wonderful friend and nothing more, should he press you for ah, a more romantic relationship."

Trix chewed her bottom lip. "You're right, Moms. I just hate to hurt anyone's feelings."

"I know, Trixie. But sometimes it happens, even with the best intentions." Helen sighed softly. "What was in the letter?"

"Oh, woe, I never even opened the letter!" On her way to charging upstairs, the front doorbell chimed out its cheerful notes. "I'll get it, Moms."

She opened the door to a gum-chewing, lip-smacking woman, with hair the color of bleached bones and way too much make-up. The logo on her shirt said Sleepyside Floral. "Trixie Belden? Sign here."

The woman thrust two boxes into Trixie's arms and stalked off, her thoughts already on her next delivery.

Helen joined Trix in the foyer, and grabbed at the square box that was in danger of sliding to the floor. Trixie held onto the longer, thin box. Setting the longer box down, Trixie opened the square one that Helen had placed on the table and pulled out a beautiful bouquet of delicate orchids and baby's breath spilling over a squat sapphire blue vase.

"Oh, how lovely!" Helen touched one of the petals. She didn't have to ask who sent it. Only one person in this world ever sent her daughter orchids.

The small white card attached to the bouquet begged to be opened. _I saw the blue vase in the window last time I was home, and thought of your eyes_. _Love, Jim._ Her heart began a long, slow, almost painful thud in her chest.

Trixie slid the red ribbon off the long white box, and pried off the lid. A mass of red tissue paper was inside, and when parted, revealed a single, perfect, long stemmed red rose, its bud gently sparkling with dew. And there was another little white card with her name on it.

She opened it with shaking fingers. The writing wasn't Jim's but the words were: _If I had but one kiss, I would give it to you. Love, Jim._

A sparkling, new bracelet on her wrist with a secret engraving and Jim's full name linking her to their past, present and future.

A bouquet of beautiful orchids delicately arranged in her favorite blue, further strengthening the links that bound them together, both past and present.

A single, long stemmed red rose. Even those not conversant with the language of flowers know what that means.

_I love you. _

He hadn't yet said those three little words to her in person, but she couldn't mistake his intentions now. She felt something burst inside of her, blazing like a million suns and burning away the last vestiges of childhood. Instead, it ignited a slow, smoldering desire. And the only thing that could quench that woman's thirst that was slowly curling through her veins was 50 miles away.

A/N: A million thanks to my wonderful editor Mylee!


	17. Chapter 17

Competition Chapter 17

Kaitlin was simply amazed when her father called the recruiting office and requested a Personal Leave Day. Captain McCourt never did that; he was always totally and completely by the book. To call and request a PLD when there wasn't a dire family emergency was obviously a sign that Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson was indeed enchanted.

They were seated at the kitchen table, all except for Aidan, who was at school – and who reverted to a sulky, temperamental teenage boy since the dinner at Trixie's. Kaitlin knew why; she saw the evidence with her own eyes. As her brother bent to kiss Trixie, she turned away so that his lips only brushed her cheek.

Now, maybe that was just an unfortunate coincidence, but Kaitlin didn't think so. Aidan was quiet and angry during the short drive when they drove Dan Mangan to the train station; waves of frustration rolled off him like heat rising from a sidewalk. Aidan offered Dan a clipped goodbye, and Kait merely shrugged her shoulders and offered up a tiny smile of her own. The suffocating atmosphere made it impossible to exchange telephone numbers or lead to anything other than the quick exit Dan made as he escaped from the oppressive atmosphere in the car.

She knew her mom was chalking up Aidan's uncharacteristic behavior to Trixie's influence, but Kaitlin was aware of the reason her brother was, to put it bluntly, acting like a brat.

He was tall and handsome and never, ever had any trouble getting any female that attracted his passing attention. Except for Trixie Belden. Glimpsing all the pictures on her dresser, Kaitlin knew Trixie was surrounded by tall, handsome men. One more didn't make a difference. Especially since one of the tall, handsome men around her was obviously crazy about her and she reciprocated those feelings. Kaitlin wasn't quite sure why Jim Frayne and Trixie Belden were dancing around each other, kind of like magnets when they push each other away, when all they really want to do is simply change position and they'd be stuck together forever.

Siobhan and John were at the kitchen table; John with his decaf and her with some tea, waiting for Kaitlin to settle down and begin the family discussion she had initiated. She could read the worry in John's eyes and was sure her eyes reflected the same. You never could predict what was going to exit Kaitlin's mouth at any given time.

Kaitlin sat in her chair at the family table and looked at her parents, really looked at them. Although they tried to mask it, both pairs of eyes were shot with apprehension. She supposed she deserved it. Kaitlin the rebellious. Wanting to alleviate their fears, she just waded in, full speed ahead, like normal.

"I want to transfer out of the University of Maine. I've applied for transfer status to the Fashion Institute of Technology, part of the State University of New York. I think with being residents in New York, we'll get a break on tuition. You guys are still planning to stay here, right?"

John answered slowly, trying to mask his elation. "Yes, I've already put in my retirement papers. You…you're not just doing this because of Jake, are you, Kaitlin? You seemed to love it up there last time we visited you."

She looked down at her fingers, interlaced them, and then straight into John's eyes. "No Da, wellll, maybe just a little. I want to go into the business of fashion, and there's no better school. I want to be a mere train ride from my family instead of hours away. I figure since Aidan's going into New York City to school too, we can share a student apartment instead of having to pay those expensive dorm rates. Maine was nice, but boy, I'll be right there on 7th Avenue where all the action is."

Siobhan was delighted. "That's wonderful, Kaitlin. What do we have to do for you? Have you spoken to Aidan about this?" A small frown marred her pretty face. "He is not acting like himself the past few days."

Kaitlin sighed. "I told him I wanted to transfer, but I haven't told him about possibly living together. He has been cranky." As her mother opened her mouth to speak, Kaitlin held up a hand. "It's _not_ Trixie's fault, Ma, whatever you want to believe." She put an elbow on the table and cupped her chin in one hand, while gesturing madly with the other. "She's a nice girl, just like you first thought. She likes Aidan _as a friend_. She _never_ led him to think he was more than that. I saw the evidence with my own eyes. It's obvious she has a very deep connection with a boy she grew up with. Aidan's acting like a spoiled brat because this is the first time a girl wasn't bowled over by him. And truth to tell, Jim Frayne is more than a match in the looks and brains department, even if Aidan is my brother."

John nodded. "I'll speak with him," he began, when both women in his life simultaneously cried "NO!" Speaking at the same time, all he heard was a jumble of words, one in a very defined Irish brogue.

"…Da, the other advice…"

"…equating love to war games…."

"…look where your advice…"

He held up his hand in abject surrender. He might be fearless on the battlefield and a stern taskmaster when he commanded troops, but damn if his women didn't get him every time.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

The three pretty girls snagged a secluded table in the courtyard at lunch period. There was a lot to talk about, and they didn't want any interruptions.

"Hey Trix, did you know Brian and Mart are coming home over the weekend?" Di asked right before biting into a crisp apple. "There's that big Chamber of Commerce dance at the Country Club, and they've agreed to be our escorts."

"That's nice," Trixie responded absently. Her mind was far away, dancing with visions of orchids and vases and cards; a beautiful bracelet and a single red rose. Whispered conversations with Jim, whipping them along a path they couldn't seem to find when they were face to face.

She couldn't call him last night to thank him for the gifts; he was already in class. She didn't know if she could even have gotten a word through her clogged throat. She didn't know if she could summon up the courage to speak those three little words to him that would change everything forever. She settled for a text message. Short, simple and to the point: _ILY_ _back_. There. They still hadn't spoken them out loud. She wanted to look into those amazing emerald orbs when she first said it to him.

"…Trix? Earth to Trixie!" Honey finally resorted to elbowing Trixie in the side. It wasn't like her best friend to be so, um, dreamy and inattentive. She turned her full attention to Trix, and was surprised by what was reflected in her face. Indeed, in her whole manner of bearing.

She looked soft, like as if she was being viewed through a lens that blurred the edges, and more a woman instead of a brash schoolgirl. Those big blue eyes held some secrets now, and her lips were curved in a small smile…smiling at something only she could see. Something was burgeoning in her best friend, and it was reflected in her face, her walk…and in the sudden influx of male interest in the woman most of the boys had thought of as Tomboy Trixie.

"What's going on?" she demanded of Trixie. It was the third time that Mike guy walked by their table, not that Trix noticed. Or even looked at John, Blake or George. She didn't notice the daggers the other girls were shooting at her – at them.

"Just daydreaming. You know me, head in the clouds." She picked up her pear and took a healthy bite.

"Why don't you come to the dance Trix?" Di asked, worried about her friend. "You can sit with us. We'll have fun."

Trixie snorted at that. "Oh yeah, my idea of fun is having to watch my two best friends make kissy faces with my brothers, and Dan charm Isabel Valero out of her panties. _Again_."

The pretty triumvirate giggled and finally burst out laughing at Trixie's comment. Everybody knew of Dan's wild man reputation. And everybody loved a rapscallion. _Especially_ Isabel Valero.

"But you'll be home alone! I know your mother and father are coming as are mine and Di's."

"Bobby's coming to my house for a sleepover," added Di. "Harrison is babysitting the terrible trio."

"Yeah, well, good luck to him. I hope your parents are giving him combat pay. Last sleepover at the Farm they all decided to eat as many dried plums as they could." Trixie shuddered. "None of us could get into the bathrooms for hours! I think I ended up going to your house, Honey."

Honey giggled. "I remember that! I guess they didn't realize that _dried plums _and _prunes_ are the same thing."

"Ah yes, the wonders of marketing," Trixie said drily. Turning to Di, she touched her friend's soft hand. "You don't have to worry Di. I'll be perfectly fine. It will be nice to have the house to myself for a change. Maybe I'll do the dishes naked or something." She arched her sandy brows. "Although I might shock Reddy into premature graying!"

As the pretty women dissolved into another fit of giggles, Trixie kept a secret all to herself: the hope that Jim might come home. As they laughed, they never noticed the janitor emptying out the trash taking their photos with his fancy new smartphone.

Jim was having a restless night. As soon as he exited class, he checked his messages, and a slow flush crept across his face. _ILY back._ From Trixie; as always, short, sweet and to the point. He had no memory of how returned to his apartment. His heart was pounding out a slow, exquisitely painful beat in time to that text. He lie in the dark, arms empty, aching for her. He had been aching for her since he was 15 years old, and he was damn tired of it.

When he did sleep, his dreams were haunted by a pair of sapphire blue eyes, oh-so-blonde curls, and full, soft rose lips. They were in the clubhouse, and she was wearing that teeny, tiny bikini with that fascinating silver dangle at her bellybutton. She was leaning against the door and he had an arm on each side of her, trapping her, pinning her there. He was simply drowning in a whirlpool of pure, glistening blue as his lips inched closer to hers and she parted her lips. Waiting. In his dream, her lips were as pliable and warm as he wanted them to be. She moaned into his mouth and he reached for those gold spirals that kept him spellbound since forever.

And reached out into empty space.

He awoke with a start as his arm fell to the bed. He didn't have Trixie pinned to the clubhouse door; he wasn't tasting her delectable lips; and his body was screaming for action. Punching his pillow, he groaned aloud, got up and crossed over to his window. He stared up at the full moon, wondering if she was having any problems sleeping. If she was, he had an antidote that would guarantee them an exhaustive sleep. When they got around to it. They only needed to be in the same town, and they only needed to be in his bed.

Aidan McCourt was also staring up at the full moon. He was in the same town as Trixie but he might as well be up there with the Man in the Moon. He pressed his head against the glass, sighing, steaming it up. AM & TB; he wrote it with his fingertip and watched as it faded away.

He didn't want his fantasy to fade like the writing on the window, but he was helpless to prevent it. She liked him, respected him even, but that was all. If she'd only give him a chance, he could make her forget Jim. He'd love her like she was meant to be loved, deeply and without reserve. He would have never left her alone.

He pressed one large palm to his aching heart. Until she told him no, he would choose to believe he still had a chance. He wondered if she was asleep, and who she was dreaming of. He only hoped it was him.

She awoke with a start, hot and flushed, her body aching with want. She could still feel his caress, his lips on her body, touching her with those long, slender fingers. She got up and sat on her window seat, staring up at the full moon. She knew what he looked like when he slept, on those rare times he stretched out on the dock on towel and dozed in the sun. His dear face was relaxed; impossibly long ginger lashes fanning out against his cheeks. His mouth was invariably curved in a small, crooked grin.

She could sit and just watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest for hours.

She placed one small, slender hand over her heart, and the other pressed against the cold glass of the window as she gazed at the lovers' moon. _Please come home Jim. I need you so very much._

He stood in his apartment in the City, one large hand pressed to the cool glass of the window, the other to his lips, still imprinted with that phantom kiss as he stared at the perfect moon. _Please wait for me Trixie. I'll be home soon. _

The third person turned away from the bright, mocking orb in the sky and clambered into his bed, and wished for a miracle.

A/N: A miracle I have gotten this far! Thank you Mylee for all your great suggestions and support!


	18. Chapter 18

Competition Final Chapter

James Winthrop Frayne II was a man on a mission. His mental checklist of things he must accomplish in the next few days was quite long; a lot of it depended upon the reaction and acceptance of others. However, he was prepared to move ahead, even if he was going it alone.

He pulled into the long driveway at Crabapple Farm and sat there, looking at its stretchy walls. Scores of images chased through his thoughts, from sneaking in there to take a shower at fifteen; barbeques and parties with the rest of the Bob-Whites and the Beldens; sleepovers with Mart and Brian knowing Trixie was just across the hall and spending the night sleepless, just fantasizing about his longed-for first kiss with her; seeing her come down the stairs dressed for his prom in that amazing black dress and his mouth going dry and brain disengaging.

He scrubbed his cold, clammy hand over his face and felt his heart begin to pound as he stepped out of his SUV, and walked around back. Helen Belden was crouched her over beloved garden, her own shining blonde hair, so much like Trixie's, covered with a piquant straw hat. She looked up in surprise and a smile bloomed across her face. "Jim!" She stood, the smile lighting her pretty face, stripping off her gardening gloves. "Trixie's still at school."

"Hi Mrs. Belden," he gulped. "I know. I…I wonder if I could talk to you about something, and maybe ask you for some help."

Helen's china blue eyes crinkled with her even wider smile as she searched Jim's rather pale face. "Certainly, Jim. Why don't you come into the house and we'll have a glass of lemonade." She didn't have to have ESP to know what he wanted to talk to her about. It was always Trixie, and it would always be Trixie. She flapped her pink flowered gloves on her thigh as he followed her into the kitchen. This discussion should prove to be most illuminating.

An hour later, Jim was backing the SUV out of the driveway and Helen Belden was on the phone with her husband. "Peter? I need you to sit down and listen to me for a minute," she began.

Jim's next stop was home. The Manor House, the imposing mansion on the hill, that miraculously became another home to him, a starved, beaten orphan with just the clothes on his back and a silver christening mug. He gained another set of parents, so different from his own, but so loved nonetheless; a beautiful sister who morphed from a scared, sick girl to the forceful woman she was becoming.

And everything he was now, everything he hoped to be was due to the petite blonde in the hollow. She brought him out of the long, dark tunnel he was living in; she made his heart sing with joy and the anticipation of the future instead of the dread of it.

His parents were in the small dining room, lingering over a late brunch and his mother was surprised at his entrance. Matt, however, just leaned back in his chair, his red eyebrows arched and a small smile flirting with his lips.

"Mother, Dad, may I speak with you both for a while?" Jim sat down and wiped his still-sweaty palms on his thighs. At the regal acquiescence of Maddy's head and his dad's curt nod, he began to outline his plan and his recent talk with Helen Belden.

By 3 pm, he was back at the apartment building, looking around in wonder at the new construction, and gaining an even healthier respect for Matthew Wheeler. No wonder Wheeler/Hart International was the third-largest privately held company in the United States. His dad was a genius. It was Tuesday. Tomorrow he had finals, and then he would be free. If everything went well, he would be back in Sleepyside by Friday morning and would surprise Trixie on Friday afternoon. At school, before this Ian guy had a chance whisk her away. His fists clenched at the thought, but he needed a clear head for tomorrow and what was to come.

It was just as well he did not know the telephone lines between Crabapple Farm and the Manor House were practically singing with activity.

All he had to sustain him for the next few days was a daily delivery of a single red rose to Crabapple Farm, and the shy texts from his blonde-haired goddess in the hollow.

Jim made a quick stop in town before he headed over to the school parking lot. Now all he had to do was wait for Trixie. Closing his eyes briefly, he wiped his damp hands on his jeans, and heard the dismissal bell ring. Unfolding his long legs from the car, he got out, shut the door and leaned back, crossing his legs and folding his arms. To anyone watching, the handsome redhead would seem to be negligently waiting to give someone a ride. A closer look into those amazing emerald eyes would certainly reveal the maelstrom of emotions he tried so cleverly to disguise. It was put up or shut up time for him, and a lot was riding on the next half-hour or so.

Aidan was trying desperately to catch up to Trixie, who was walking out the door accompanied by Honey and Di. She had been successfully avoiding any alone time with him since the dinner at Crabapple Farm. They did speak, but only briefly; nothing that could be construed as personal at all. Just one friend to another. He needed to ask her. He needed to hear it from her mouth. A surge of students prevented him from reaching his goal, as well as one very determined Leigh Michaels. She was the head cheerleader after all. She deserved the best, and she would have him, Trixie Belden be damned.

Walking out into the late spring sunshine, laughing with her friends, Trixie looked up to see a glint of red hair shining from the parking lot. A beloved face and a long, lean body; it couldn't be.

"Jim," she breathed, no longer hearing the students or the knowing giggles of her friends. In one fluid movement, she tossed her bookbag at their feet and took off running. When she got just close enough, she exuberantly launched herself into his arms, as if she were as light as a helium-filled balloon.

It was different this time. Instead of twirling her in a little circle and putting her down, he caught her tightly to him and looked into those amazing sapphire eyes; those selfsame eyes that haunted his nights and starred in his daydreams. One strong hand slid up her back and tangled in her soft yellow curls; the other went to her hip and pulled her even more closely. Of their own volition, her legs twined with his, and his mouth descended upon hers. Not slowly and sweetly like he planned, but with the voracious desire that was riding him hard.

Of all the locations either of them had ever thought of, fantasized about, or dreamt of for their first lovers' kiss, a school parking lot was on neither of their lists. His mouth slid over hers, again and again as her arms snaked around his broad shoulders and her hands lost themselves in thick, crisp red hair.

"Open your mouth, Trixie," he spoke hoarsely against her lips, and she was more than willing to comply. They were caught in a violent emotional storm that left them breathless and oh, so willing. The world narrowed to him, her, and the entanglement of arms, legs, hands and tongues. They neither saw nor heard the catcalls, whistles and horns from the exiting school buses and cars; nor the placement of her bookbag on the car hood by a grinning Honey. Or the quiet whir of a telephoto lens.

He kissed his way from her jawline to her ear, open mouthed wet, drugging kisses. "Oh baby, oh Trix," he whispered in her ear. Her soft sighs and mewls were making him insane. Her hands were fisted in his shirt, bunching the fabric as wave upon wave of absolute total and complete desire assaulted her. He gathered her closer still so there could be no doubt in her mind how much he wanted her. Needed her. All his carefully constructed iron control, in place since his father died when he was ten, was shattering under resurgence of his primitive alpha male tendencies and the hot, driving need to mate with her. Only her. It was always _only her._

Breathing heavily, her skin was aflame, so sensitized that each touch brought shudders of longing. "Jim," was all she managed to rasp out before he took her mouth again, taking her under and feasting upon her as if she were the sweetest, most pure spring in the world.

He only broke the kiss when he realized he had her backed up tightly against his car, his hips and her hips perfectly aligned and beginning to move in an age-old rhythm. And what he said next astonished her.

"Hey Aidan, wait up." Leigh touched him lightly on the arm. This was it. Do or die. Whoever heard of the head cheerleader not having a date for the prom? She was a modern woman. She went after what she wanted. And she definitely wanted Aidan. She could make him forget he ever thought Trixie was even worthy of his attention.

"'sup, Leigh?" She was kinda cute, in that cheerleadery way. A lot like the girls he used to date B.T. _Before Trixie._ It would have amused Trix to no end to think the two out of the three unrelated males in her life thought of her in exactly the same way.

They continued walking toward the exit, Aidan keeping one eye out for Trix. "I was wondering if you would like to go to the prom with me." There, she got it out, a bit breathlessly, but one point to her for bravery. It was not as if she _ever_ had to ask a boy on a date in her life.

They were outside now, and a flash of yellow and red hair close together caught his eye. The bottom dropped out of his carefully constructed fantasy of life with Trix. Because there she was, wrapped around a very tall redhead like a vine, a man who was kissing her with deep, passionate intent. The redhead's hands were ensconced in some extremely interesting places. In fact, he could feel the heat they were generating from here. Leigh followed his eyes to the incredible scene of little Tomboy Trixie playing tonsil hockey with that extremely hot and clearly, extremely unavailable Jim Frayne. _What was it about that little blonde that drove redheads crazy?_

Quietly, to Aidan, because Leigh knew he liked Trixie, and she knew he must be hurting, she said, "And that's Jim Frayne. She's been his special girl since forever." They watched as he handed something to Trixie and reached up and gently brushed something from her cheeks, before crushing her in his arms again.

Turning away from the scene, Aidan said, "Sure Leigh. I'd like to go to the prom with you." He lost; Trixie was lost to him. She never was his; he just failed to listen to her. Might as well go to the prom and torture himself seeing Trixie there with Jim. Besides, he just didn't have it in his heart to hurt Leigh. She gifted him with a dazzling smile and a quick intake of breath.

"That's wonderful! We'll firm up all the info later. Thank you." And thank you, Jim Frayne, she added silently. Although for the life of her she couldn't see what all these guys saw in Trixie.

"Marry me, Trix. Marry me this summer. I'm so in love with you. I'm tired of waiting. I feel so lonely and broken without you. I've been waiting for you since I was 15 years old. I need you, Trix. I don't feel alive when I'm not near you. I'm tired of just existing. Please say you'll be my family in name as well as in my heart. We can do anything together. Anything." His emerald gaze was so full of love, passion and a sudden shyness, it brought unbidden tears to her sapphire one.

Her small, slender hand brushed through the thick wave of his hair, trailed down the side of his face. "I am so in love with you Jim. I've been in love with you, only you, since I was 13 years old. I'll marry you today, tomorrow, next week." She couldn't add more as his lips crashed down on hers again.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small, leather box, and pulled away. They were both breathing heavily. Trixie's eyes widened as he flipped open the box with one thumb. Inside the velvet shroud, lay the diamond solitaire he had given to her that fateful summer when he was 15 and she was 13. Around the diamond were six smaller diamonds, sparkling brilliantly in the sun.

He took the ring from the box and slid it on the third finger of her left hand, and watched in fascination as a crystal tear dropped onto his long fingers. "I..uh I wanted to give you our past, And our present," he added. The six smaller diamonds represented the Bob-Whites. They always revolved around Trixie and always would. "When I slip that wedding band on your finger, I will give you my future," he whispered, wiping the tears silently streaming from her delphinium eyes.

This time, she fused her lips to his. She would make it work. They would make it work. Together they were so much stronger. Pulling apart at Mr. Repetski's loud cough and his suggestion to take their display of affection to a more appropriate place than the parking lot, Trixie dissolved into giggles.

She slid down Jim's body, suppressing the frisson of awareness that she was really…ah…affecting him.

And out of the corner of her eye, she saw another tall, auburn-haired man approaching. Aidan!

He didn't want to come over. He really didn't. But he had to see for himself. He had to see just what she saw in him. He had to meet the man that bested him in a contest that he never had a chance of winning, except in his daydreams. They tried to warn him – Tad, his sister, his mother. Even Trixie. She never returned his kiss, turned her head when he tried to kiss her again. She never led him to believe she could be anything other than a friend. He chose not to hear.

Jim stiffened a little at the approach of the man. _Ian._ The man's gaze was fixated on Trixie, and Jim moved in closer and staked his claim. He hadn't planned on a confrontation in the parking lot, but he was ready.

Aidan's stormy grey eyes were glued to the sparkling ring on Trixie's left hand, and quickly rose to her face. She was simply the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She glowed from within, as if this Frayne guy just turned a light on inside of her. Her big blue eyes were soft with love and her full, rose lips were swollen with the kisses he (and the rest of the student body, as well as a good many of the teachers) had witnessed. Taking a long, deep breath, he extended his hand.

"Hi. You must be Jim. I'm Aidan McCourt. I've been helping Trixie with her Trig." Aidan actually had to look up at Jim, something he rarely did. God, what was he 6'3" or 4"?

Pausing minutely, Jim placed his large hand into Aidan's and shook. "Hi. I'm Jim Frayne, Trixie's fiancé. Thanks for helping my girl while I was away." Her fiancé. Jim was suddenly filled with a lightness of being that he never felt before. He loved and was loved in return. He really should thank Ian. He was the catalyst that made Jim act, made him realize what he might have lost.

Fiancé. Wow. She must be the only 18 year old girl in the school that was engaged and not pregnant. "Congratulations, Trix," Aidan addressed her for the first time. Her big blue eyes briefly dimmed with sadness. He was very nice, but she was spoken for a long time ago, by a redheaded boy with a rifle in a creepy old mansion.

"Thanks Aidan. You're just about the first to know!" The smile she gifted him with was dazzlingly happy.

"Can I borrow your girl for a minute?" Aidan addressed Jim, and watched how his startling emerald eyes narrowed and measured his intent. "That's up to Trixie," Jim replied evenly.

She stroked her soft fingers across his knuckles. "It's okay Jim."

She walked with Aidan and wondered how it was possible that her heart felt so overflowing with happiness, yet ached with sadness for the hurt she was inflicting upon Aidan. He stopped about 15 feet from Jim and turned to her.

"I never had a chance, did I?" he asked ruefully. His fingers still itched to climb into those golden spirals and his lips wanted to swoop down and wipe the taste of Jim off hers. Instead, he stuck in fingers in his front pockets, well out of the way of temptation.

"I'll always be your friend," Trixie replied gently. "You're a wonderful guy, Aidan. Any girl would be proud to go out with you. And I can't sound any more clichéd, can I?" But it was the absolute truth. He saw it in her eyes, in the quick touch of her soft fingers on his arm.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged. "Jim's a very lucky guy. You're a gift to be treasured, Trixie," he began, as the rose color spread softly across her cheeks. "I just wish you were my treasure." Unable to stop himself, he bent down and brushed her cheek with his lips. "If he doesn't treat you right, I'll be waiting."

He looked past Trixie into Jim's intense emerald gaze, meeting it head on. "You better take care of her. Because if you don't, I'll be there in a heartbeat. And neither you nor anyone else will be able to stop me." He turned swiftly and strode away. _So this is what it felt like when your heart broke_. He examined the feeling and didn't like it at all. One large hand scrubbed over the jagged tear he imagined rent his heart. He rather hoped they did not invite him to the wedding.

Trixie looked back at Jim, the sadness in her remarkable eyes giving way to a joyful gleam. She walked back to him, noting the Frayne temper reflected in his emerald gaze, and her touch soothed him.

"I love you, Trixie," he said softly, everything she ever hoped for shining out of his glorious eyes. Slinging an arm around her thin shoulders, he steered her back to the car. "Let's go."

"Hey, this is your mom's Mercedes," Trixie just noticed as she buckled herself in. Her brain was re-engaging after the amazing series of kisses they just shared. "Where's your car?"

"At home. We're officially going out on a date, Trixie, and it's starting right now." He expertly backed the gleaming machine out of the parking space and exited the lot. A few minutes later, they were on the access road to the New York Thruway.

"Jim! Where are we going! I'm a mess from school." Trixie looked into Jim's well-loved profile.

"We, my darling Schoolgirl Shamus, are going out to dinner in New York City. I have another surprise for you there," he teased. "And your mom packed a bag for you with a change of clothes."

"Moms." Oh woe. What were her parents going to say when they learned she was engaged and wanted to be married this summer? What were Jim's parents going to say? How could they break this to the rest of the Bob-Whites?

Jim took one peek at his fiancée and saw all those gears turning. "Relax Trix. I uh..if you noticed you have on the same ring I gave to you 5 years ago. It was in your family's safety deposit box. Now how do you think I got it out and had the extra stones added and sized?"

She wasn't an aspiring and gifted detective for nothing. "Our parents know. You asked my father for my hand." Of course he would.

He grinned. "Absolutely correct. I did approach your mom first though, I wanted to get her on my side."

Trixie wrinkled her nose. It was absolute genius on Jim's part to enlist the aid of Moms first. Peter Belden might be a forceful, confident bank president, but Helen Belden had him beat, hands down, when it came to getting something she really wanted.

"You know, James," she said, "If this was the 1950s we'd have no seatbelts and a bench seat and I could sit really, really close to you." She snaked out a hand and caressed his arm. "After all, we are engaged now."

Jim actually gulped. "Trix," he warned, "Don't tease me. Or else you'll find me parking on the side of the thruway and taking you into bushes."

Her only answer was a low hum. Trixie leaned her head against the cool glass of the passenger window, and began to make some plans of her own for their time in the City. Alone. With Jim.

Traffic was not bad at all, and they made great time into the City. Turning over the Mercedes to the parking valet at the garage across the street, Jim grabbed Trixie's bag and her hand, and led her over to the apartment building and her first surprise.

Looking up at the tall structure, Trixie was engulfed by memories of staying there with Honey and her parents, and with the Bob-Whites and their friends from Iowa so long ago. He practically dragged her into the elevator, and as soon as the doors whooshed closed, had her pinned against the back wall while he kissed her senseless. Only the loud ding and mechanical voice announcing their floor penetrated the haze of desire overtaking the two.

"C'mon Trix." His voice was hoarse. He grabbed her hand when she made no move to exit, noted the dazed gleam of her beautiful eyes.

The long hallway had some construction debris and Jim led her around it, and stopped in front of the apartment that was being readied. Opening the door, he ushered her inside. "This is the apartment Dad is getting ready for the female contingent of the Bob-Whites," he explained to her.

She turned to him, the hated red staining her cheeks. The floor plan had been altered, she knew, and it was now light and airy and looked to be perfect…in some respects. "Jim, I'm not sure I would be comfortable um, sharing a bedroom with you either here with Honey and Di or across the hall at your place." In fact, she would be mortified to have to face her brothers every morning, coming out of their bedroom and correctly suspected they wouldn't be too thrilled either. And Honey and Di would tease her unmercifully.

He loved her blush. Skimming a hand over her cheek, he gifted her with his lopsided grin. "And now for the surprise." He led her out of the apartment, making sure to lock up, and down the hall a ways. "I feel the same way, so…voila!" He stopped in front of another door, and unlocked it. Before Trixie could take a step in, he picked her up and carried her across the threshold.

It felt so right to have her in his arms. To be standing in their temporary home. "This is our apartment Trix," he murmured in her ear, still holding her in his arms. "I don't have a clue how Dad figured it all out. This was originally slated to be a part of Honey's, Di's and your apartment, but Dad made some changes. Luckily they hadn't broken through the adjoining wall yet." He set her down gently as her big blue eyes went even wider.

"Really Jim? Ours?" She grasped his long fingers as if she couldn't bear no to keep touching him. She couldn't. If she let go, she might awake from this delirium where every secret wish she ever thought was coming true. Trixie pulled him into the kitchen, shining with new appliances, and then into the small dining room. There was a wonderful living room with a half-bath attached.

Jim gently guided her into a large room, painted her favorite shade of blue. "This will be our bedroom, Trix." He couldn't prevent the slow flush from crawling across his face. Two closets – his and hers – and adjoining door to the master bathroom. "There are two smaller bedrooms that share another bathroom," Jim added helpfully. "I thought we could make one into a sort of guest room and one for our home office."

"Oh my God, Jim, how can we accept this?" Trixie covered her vibrantly red cheeks with her hands. It was all too much.

Jim turned his fiancée to face him and tipped up her chin. "The same way we accepted the gift of staying here instead of some dorm." His lopsided grin bloomed. "You'll just have to suffer with me as your roommate."

Looking up into his amused emerald gaze, Trixie wrinkled her nose at him and snaked her arms around his neck as she stood on her tiptoes and lifted her mouth to his. "I hope you don't snore," she whispered on his talented lips.

They broke apart only to breathe. "We, uh, we better get over to my place so you can change. We have a dinner reservation." The last thing Jim wanted to do was go to dinner. He would rather stay right where he was and feast on Trixie.

"Yeah, Dinner. Reservation." Her brain was delightfully addled; her body was letting her know in no uncertain terms that it wanted much more. They stumbled out of the new construction and across the hall.

"You can use my room to freshen up and change, Trix," Jim said, doing his best not to imagine her taking off her crumpled jeans and t-shirt in his room. Near his bed. "I'll use Brian's bathroom." He practically pushed her through the doorway and clicked it shut.

He leaned on his side of the door, willing the undeniable ache to rush her to the next level of intimacy away. Hell, they didn't even have a real first date yet, and he proposed. How messed up was that?

She leaned on the other side of the door and blew out a hot, bothered breath. Up to now, Jim had been the one pushing. Trixie looked across to his mirror. She wasn't a little girl anymore. And she knew exactly what she wanted. Toeing out of her sneakers and socks, she discarded her jeans and stood there in her miniscule, blue boy-cut panties. She tore the t-shirt over her head and opened the bag Moms packed for her. A tiny, silky blue camisole with a matching blue v-necked sweater; dress jeans that fit her like a second skin. Strappy sandals with just a slight wedge, nothing too extreme.

Her full lips parted in a very evil grin. Mr. James Winthrop Frayne II was about to get the shock of his young life. She just hoped she had the courage to pull it off.

"Trixie? Are you done yet?" Jim knocked at his bedroom door. It was awfully quiet in there. He hoped she didn't fall asleep or something.

A muffled voice responded. "Jim, I need your help, can you come in for a second?"

_She probably needs help with a zipper or something. Or the toilet. It's probably running again. I need to let the Dad know so he could get the plumber in. _He pushed open the door and stepped into his own bedroom. He saw her clothes on the floor, not that he expected anything else. But he didn't see her. "Trixie?"

She pushed the door closed and locked it. Leaning indolently against the hard wood, she watched his eyes widen and the emerald deepen as he turned around with a question that died before it was born.

Trixie. She was leaning against his door, clad only in some tiny blue panties and some sort of silky top that barely reached her waist. There was a vast expanse of skin between the end of that top and the beginning of those panties. And right there, right where his eyes zeroed in on it like a sweet target, was that silver dangle that haunted his dreams night after night. Before he realized what he was doing, his fingers reached out and lightly brushed it. He couldn't control the tremor as they brushed against the taut, toned, _naked _skin of her belly.

Trixie's own hands, pressed against the door, slid to Jim's, and placed each hand on the side of her hips, right where she wanted them. _For now._ Her hands slid up his arms and around his neck, and she actually stood on his feet to reach up to his face.

She kissed his jaw, smelled his cologne and proceeded to lightly kiss her way to his ear. "Jim?" Her voice was throaty, womanly, thick. "I decided I want dessert before dinner. And Jim?" she added, whispering so only he could hear. "I've been on the pill since I was 17. Waiting. For you."

With that, he could do nothing else but provide what his lady so clearly wanted.

"So what happened to Isabel, Dan?" Honey glanced around the ballroom of the Country Club, looking in vain for Dan's date. She was there before dinner, and then just disappeared.

"Shrimp," he replied, succinctly. There was nothing worse than attending one of these monkey-suit-required affairs, unless it was having your date suffer an allergic reaction to the food being served.

Brian, leaning over Honey's chair, nodded sagely. "I thought I saw her parents leaving with her quite abruptly."

"Yup," Dan sighed. "She's terribly allergic to shrimp. Didn't realize the creamy salad dressing stating Ranch with Prawns really meant Ranch with Shrimp. Luckily, her mom had the epi-pen, but Isabel blew up like Violet Beauregard in _Willy Wonka. _ Except she was red, and not violet, Violet."

"Tough luck, Danno." Mart and Di returned to the table after a slow dance, which had Mr. Lynch about ready to burst a blood vessel. There wasn't an inch of space to spare between them, and he saw his daughter give Mart's butt a squeeze. As he harbored no illusions about their relationship, he only wished that they would maul each other in some more private place.

"I wish Jim and Trix were here," Honey sighed. "It's never as much fun without them." Realizing she just insulted the present Bob-Whites, she colored prettily and attempted to backtrack. "Well, not that we're not all fun together, and we are, having fun I mean. I just meant, you know, the more the merrier."

"Honey-speak at its finest," teased Mart. "But I know what you mean. We could have at least the satisfaction of watching our co-presidents dance around each other all night without either of them making a commitment."

"Yeah. There's nothing like an evening of fond glances and hand holding," Brian said drily. "Except maybe watching Jim watch Trix and then watching Trixie watch Jim."

At that moment, the Wheelers and Beldens approached the Bob-White table as they thought of it. It was decided that they would break the news of the events occurring simultaneously in New York City with the two missing members.

The boys stood swiftly as the two couples approached. They looked quite chagrined, and the BWGs exchanged glances. Something was up.

"Sit down, boys," Maddy Wheeler instructed them in her soft, cultured voice.

"We, ah, have some news," Matthew began, then sort of faded out.

"Good news," inserted Helen, her hands twisting her wedding rings, a sure sign she was nervous.

"Great news," Peter added helpfully. Silence then hung over the table like a cloak.

"Well, Mother, what is it?" Honey directed the question at Maddy. This was, to use a Trixie word, very mysterious.

Peter decided to take the lead. After all, he was the father of the bride. "Jim and Trixie are sorry they could not join us today," he began. He suddenly had the urge to pull at his collar when 5 pair of eyes swung his way. "But they had another, more pressing engagement." Peter colored up at the last word.

"Trixie didn't say anything to Mart or me," Brian said. God, he hoped she wasn't involved in another damn mystery.

Matt jumped in. "That's just it." He took a deep breath, and went for broke. "Jim and Trixie are in New York City. At dinner. Lucabelli's."

"Why'd they have to go all the way to New York for dinner?" Mart asked reasonably. "They could have had dinner with us."

Helen took a deep breath. "Because Jim is proposing to Trixie over dinner. Or maybe in the horse-drawn carriage through Central Park. He…he wants them to be married this summer, before she starts school."

There was utter and complete silence as the import of this information sunk in to the astonished Bob-Whites. Jim Frayne, Mr. I-have-a-plan-for-everything, was actually asking Trixie Belden, Miss Impulsivity of any given year, to marry him. This summer.

Helen's hands fluttered like white doves in the air. "Peter and I gave our blessing as did Matt and Maddy. It's right for them," she stressed, more firmly. "Neither of them is truly happy without the other."

Brian's dark eyebrows snapped together. "But Moms, they haven't even been out on a date together," he began, when Matt's hearty laughter interrupted him.

"Hell, Brian," he boomed. "They've been dating for the last five years in their own way."

Carmine Lucabelli left his quiet office for the noisy business of the restaurant. Full crowd, he noted with pride. Peeking through the glass door to the pizzeria portion, he faintly heard the phone ringing off the hook as pies were piled high on the ovens, awaiting their owners.

He turned back to the restaurant, and noticed Jim Frayne was there again, at his favorite table, alone. Much like a few weeks ago, he was drumming his fingers on the table impatiently, but something about him was…different. Jim's face lit up with happiness and something else. He followed the emerald green gaze to the beautiful, petite blonde wending her way to the table. Carmine had the presence of mind to note a great many male eyes followed her in appreciation of the charming picture she made, with her spiraling gold curls and killer curves.

Jim stood as she approached the table, stooping slightly for a quick kiss, one that brought an appealing rose color to her high cheekbones. This was not another sister, Carmine thought. This was _the one_. He approached the table. He had to be introduced to this lovely young lady who had the stoic Mr. Frayne so evidently flustered.

"Everything ok, Jim?" he asked the question of the handsome redhead, but looked straight at the blonde. She was even more pretty up close; a clear, rose gold complexion, soft full lips. Remarkably big blue yes fringed with long, curling lashes.

"Everything is just fine, Mr. Lucabelli. I'd like you to meet my fiancée, Trixie Belden." The blonde, Trixie, gave Carmine a dazzling smile and shook his hand firmly.

"Everything was wonderful, Mr. Lucabelli," she said simply and with conviction. "Just delicious."

"Congratulations to you both. Nice to meet you, Trixie." Carmine smiled at the young lovers and moved off. It was clear he was a third wheel at the table. Not with the way Jim's green eyes were fixated on her, and her sapphire ones returning the favor.

"I have a confession to make, Trix," Jim began solemnly. "Well, maybe not a confession, but," he grappled for the right words, "I guess an apology."

Trixie widened her blue eyes and stared into Jim's shy green gaze. She desperately hoped he was not going to apologize for what just happened between them. "You have nothing to apologize for, Jim."

He turned his head away, then looked back. "Yes I do. I'm so sorry I was such a…that I was so stupid. It's always been you, Trixie, always. I was just so focused on getting my degree early so, so I could prepare for our life together. I just forgot to let you in on that little secret." He gave her his lopsided grin. "I wanted you to have the high school experience. Maybe go out on group dates with someone like Tad Martin." He sighed. "It was recently pointed out to me that if you did, maybe you would have fallen in love with someone else while I was so busy not declaring my feelings for you."

Trixie looked across the table, at her best friend, lover and soon to be husband. Blue sparks lit her remarkable eyes. "Jim, I sort of knew you were working hard for us. I hoped and wished you would say it to me. When you didn't, I won't pretend at times it wasn't…difficult. But it's always you Jim. It would always be only you."

Jim reached over and took both of Trixie's small hands in his larger ones. "I have another confession to make," he said, sheepishly, rubbing small circles on the back of her hands with his thumbs. "I was supposed to propose here, in the restaurant. Or on a carriage ride through Central Park. But I saw you and I just couldn't wait one second longer."

She threw her head back and grinned at him. "My, my, Jim Frayne, impatient? It simply can't be." She looked down at their interlocked hands, her engagement ring splitting the light into thousands of tiny shards.

She leaned over the table and whispered, "You know, I don't have to be home until midnight. And it's only 8.30 now. I've already been on a carriage ride with you through Central Park," she teased. Her voice lowered and the tip of her pink tongue flicked her lower lip. "We can go back to the apartment for um, some more _practice_. If you're up for it."

He cocked his head and looked at her quizzically. "Practice? For what, Trix?"

Her sapphire blue eyes snapped with amusement and something else entirely. "Why, practice for the _wedding night_, of course, James."

His fingers tightened convulsively on hers, as his eyes darkened past emerald green. A few minutes later, they were on their way out, eager to get back to Jim's bedroom; to again indulge in a love so sweet, so complete, it brought tears to them both. Making love hadn't dampened their desire; it only increased it exponentially. Outside of Lucabelli's Jim swept Trixie up in his arms and fastened his mouth to hers as if he couldn't wait the few minutes it would take to get them back to the apartment.

In a city where every other person had a digital camera or camcorder hanging around their necks, neither Trixie nor Jim noticed the man clicking away on the other side of the street.

As the elevator began its slow descent, Trixie pulled her mouth from Jim's and said, "Two weeks."

"Two weeks?"

"Two weeks after graduation. Our wedding. I love you, Jim."

Jim smiled against her mouth as he took it again, and whispered the words back to her. "I love you Trix. Two weeks."

They made it back to Crabapple Farm by 11:45. The house was ablaze with lights and the driveway stuffed full of cars. "They're all waiting for us," Jim remarked, turning in the seat to look at Trixie.

"Well, they certainly must have thought I would say yes! It would be awfully awkward if I said no," Trix giggled.

Jim reached over and tugged his curl. She was here next to him, right where she belonged. Amazingly, the transition from fond glances and hand-holding to intense physical and emotional love was not difficult at all. He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over to unbuckle hers. Taking advantage of his position, Trixie slid her hands up his shirt and around his neck, capturing his handsome, freckled face between her hands. Her sapphire eyes were shadowed, and full of feminine secrets. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, before taking his lips with hers.

His own arm slid around her should, practically pulling her into his lap as the desire once more flared between them. They broke apart, just to breathe, and Jim sat back in his seat, his fingers wrapped in the soft golden spirals he loved so much. "Trix," he rasped out. "We need to cool it down a bit, or I'll never be able to walk in there. Hell, I may never be able to walk again"

"Well, just think of England!" she giggled, sounding just like the 13 year old girl he fell in love with, so long ago.

He tipped his head back against the headrest of the car and looked through the moonroof at the display nature so kindly graced them with. Millions of twinkling stars, a beautiful moon and the person he loved above all else sitting right next to him, her small hand safely clasped in his.

Trixie leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Time to go in and face the families, James," she whispered. "They're all waiting for us, to celebrate."

A click of two car doors, and quick kiss under that spectacular moon, and the front door of Crabapple Farm burst open with a blaze of light and spill of people, enfolding the couple with all the love and support they could wish for.

Trixie looked up once and saw a shooting star. But she didn't make a wish, because everything she ever desired was right there on her front lawn.

A/N: To be followed by an Epilogue.

As ever, thanks for reading and my especial thanks to my lovely editor, Mylee!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Trixie Belden! A big thank you to all the Dear Readers who have this story on alert and who have reviewed! I am so far behind, but trust me, I really do appreciate the time you take to let me know your thoughts.

Competition Epilogue

"Trust Trixie to make everyone traipse up here," Mart groused to his older brother, as they straightened the chairs on the freshly mowed lawn. "Why couldn't she just get married at Crabapple Farm?" The question was, of course, rhetorical. Why did Trixie ever do anything she did?

Brian pulled at the collar of his tuxedo. "Ah, it's _her_ wedding day, Mart. At least she didn't turn into some kind of bridezilla like those ladies on television." He glanced at the scene unfolding before him. It was just so totally Trixie and Jim, he couldn't find fault with it. Not that he was all that thrilled about his baby sister marrying his best friend. Their glowing, blissful faces when they faced the families at the Farm made up for any doubts the rest of the Bob-Whites had about such a large step for such a young couple. It was simply meant to be, like the sun setting in the evening or the moon rising at night.

Brian glanced across the manicured lawn to the area where Dan was expertly directing traffic. Thank God Trix and Jim didn't want a big society bash. Their wedding was small, with just the people who mattered the most to them. Thinking ahead, Brian realized if he and Honey, and Mart and Di continued the trajectory they were on, an intimate wedding like today's would simply be out of the question for the two couples. Of course, that was in the future. The way, way off, nebulous future.

A small white tent, erected for the wedding, held the bride and her attendants, as well as both mothers. A town car, driven by Tom Delanoy, heralded the arrival of the groom and his father. Inside the car, James Winthrop Frayne II silently viewed the charming chaos before him.

Brian and Mart were seating the guests as they arrived from the parking area. A long white runner led from the tent to the concrete slab that was all that remained of Ten Acres to the end of the center aisle. The foundation. Even after the fire, and all the years in between, it was solid and smooth. The flower-bedecked altar stood silently, awaiting the minister and the happy couple that would transform it from a piece of wood to the sanctuary of God's words. Words that would finally bind he and Trixie together for all time.

For a brief moment, an overlay of the dilapidated mansion shimmered in front of his eyes. Ten Acres. Where it all began, and where it was all beginning again. Of course, it was Trixie's idea. She pulled him up there, up onto the cement slab, and held both his hands as they faced each other. "I want to get married here, Jim," Trixie said quietly, taking him by surprise. He was sure she would want to get married at Crabapple Farm, in her mother's wedding dress.

In fact, he would have bet on it.

"Are you sure, Trix?" He stammered out. "It is kind of out of the way."

His blonde-haired angel scuffed the slab with her sneakered foot. "See that, Jim? Ten Acres stood here for a long time. All the good things and bad things that happened here…your uncle, finding you, Jonesy, the fire. Yet the foundation is strong, uncracked." Her sapphire eyes arrowed into his green ones. "I want to start our life on this foundation that was built out of love. Sure, it went through some bad times. I'm sure we're not going to have all roses and moonlight – or should I say _orchids_ and moonlight – in our marriage. Yet if we build our foundation strong enough, like this one, it will withstand anything."

If he didn't love her before then, he would have fallen in love with her as she spoke those words. His strong arms pulled her close as he laid his head on top of those soft golden curls. "I love you, Trix." Those words couldn't convey the wealth of feeling he had for this woman, as they stood on his property and made plans for their future.

"Jim? You ok?" Matt Wheeler examined his son, who appeared to be in another world. Of course, Jim would be nervous – but he wondered, just a tiny selfish piece of him, if Jim was regretting the fact that Matt stood in for Winthrop Frayne. Intellectually, he knew he and Maddy could never replace Jim's biological parents, but there were times during the past five years that he forgot all about the word 'adopted' and just remembered the word 'son.'

"Yeah, Dad. Just woolgathering a bit."

Matt looked into Jim's intense emerald gaze. "I'm sorry that Win and Katie aren't here to see your big day," he stumbled out, completely misreading Jim. "I hope you know that we couldn't love you more if you were our biological child." Matt's big hand patted Jim's knee.

"I wish they were here too, Dad." He sighed a bit. "It was not meant to be. But I have you and Honey and Mother now, and soon I'll have a whole 'nother family." He grinned. "So, I'm luckier than most! I'll have three families instead of two. Although," he confided in a stage whisper, "I'm not so sure about being related to Mart Belden by marriage is such a good thing. Enormous appetite, no job…" Jim gave a fake shudder.

Both men burst out laughing, and that's how Brian found them when he knocked on the darkly tinted window. "Let's get this show on the road!"

She should have been nervous, Trixie thought. All the television shows and movies and books, even her own beloved Moms and Mrs. Wheeler, regaled her with stories of bridal jitters. But she wasn't at all nervous. She was…happy, Excited. In love.

She glanced over to the other side of the tent, where Di and Honey were putting the final touches to their hair and makeup. Both, in the pretty bright colors of summer – Di in her beloved lavender and Honey in bronze. The dresses were simple – strapless with a tiny matching jacket, hem hitting a bit below mid-thigh, in an A-line style that was figure flattering. Each had a matching wreath of summer flowers in her hair.

She didn't know it, but Jim had one thing right…she _was_ going to wear Moms' wedding dress. She giggled inwardly at the memory of Moms and her, standing in front of Moms' full-length mirror. The dress was beautiful, but the waist was miles too big and the bodice much too tight for Trixie's more ample cleavage.

Instead, Moms was lowering Trixie's prom dress – now wedding gown – gently over her hair and freshly made up face. When she went to her prom with Jim, she wore the black dress again. Who cared? She would have gone in sneakers and jeans and an old ratty t-shirt if Jim asked her to.

Her dress was thin white cotton, strapless, with a tight bodice encrusted with white, glittery beads. It was caught underneath her breasts, empire-style, by a charming blue ribbon in Trixie's favorite Caribbean blue, and tied in the back. The tails trailed almost down to the hem. The dress skimmed and emphasized her curves, falling softly down to just above her ankles.

Trixie examined her reflection as Moms zipped her up. Her curls were pinned up in the back, with just a few wisps surrounding her beautiful face. A wreath of white daisies and white orchids took the place of a veil, also entwined with the same blue color as the ribbon of her dress. Little sparkly 'diamonds' were scattered in the curls, catching the light. A touch of mascara widened her big blue eyes, making them look even bigger and bluer. And a secret she held to herself…watermelon lip gloss, Jim's favorite!

Helen Belden's eyes filled with tears as she viewed the reflections of her daughter and herself. She always thought her daughter was lovely, inside and out, even if Trixie snorted her disbelief of that. These past few weeks, awash in Jim's love and now, in her wedding dress in preparation for her marriage, she crossed over the line to beautiful. "You look great, Trixie," she choked out. "Simply gorgeous. Are you nervous?"

Trix turned to face her beloved Moms. "You know Moms, not at all. I'm actually marrying the man I love. I feel…dreamlike." The hardest part would be leaving Crabapple Farm, and her family, especially Moms. After the honeymoon, they would return to the Manor House and a third-floor suite until the apartment was ready. Her room at the Farm was packed with boxes to go into the attic, other boxes to go to the apartment; the things she needed for life in the Manor House were already up there, waiting their return. "I love you, Moms," she whispered.

"And I love you, baby." Helen straightened her shoulders. She could get through this. She would get through this. Honey and Di approached, so pretty and flowerlike in their dresses.

"Do you have everything, Trix?" Honey asked. It was finally here. The day Trixie would become her sister legally as well as her sister of the heart. Honey couldn't help tearing up at the picture Trixie made. Who would have thought the rambunctious thirteen year old girl who barreled into her life would grow up to become a stunning beauty?

"Well, I think so! I have my locket, that's something old," she started. "Something new is my shoes. I borrowed a slip from Moms."

"And I have something blue," Di added with a flourish, stretching the blue garter like a rubber band to be shot off. "Here ya go Trix."

At that Trixie blushed, her mind's eye already painting the picture of Jim kneeling before her, sliding those extremely talented hands of his up her leg to retrieve the little blue object.

Maddy came over, trying hard not to sniffle. "All of you look wonderful. So bright and pretty." She handed the two attendants their bouquets – white daisies and blue forget-me-nots. Trixie's bouquet was a mix of white orchids, roses and daisies, interspersed with the same forget-me-nots. "We're getting the high sign that it's all about to begin." Impulsively, she embraced Trixie. "Where would we all be without you, Miss Belden," she whispered softly in her ear. "I couldn't love you more if you were actually my child."

Straightening her shoulders and throwing her head back, she marched over to the slit in the tent, being guarded with enthusiasm by Terry and Larry Lynch, and their co-conspirator, Bobby Belden. Her topaz gaze, so like Honey's, found Matt sitting on the groom's side. _The groom's side._ She couldn't say that Jim's nervous declaration at brunch a few weeks ago that he was going to marry Trixie, this summer, was entirely a surprise. He'd been head over heels for her since, well, since forever.

She stood as sentry, waiting for the signal that the groom's mother was to be seated. She discreetly tucked several tissues in her little bag. She had a feeling she would need them.

Dan's date was the last to arrive; whether by choice or nerves, he didn't know. He was just this close to getting worried. After all, it wasn't everyday a man got to bring the sister of the other point in a lovers' triangle to the wedding of the lucky pair. But he couldn't resist the ravishing Kaitlin McCourt; and she apparently had no qualms about attending the wedding either.

Stepping out of her little VW bug, Kaitlin slapped a beaming smile on her face and tried to bury the nerves that had been building in her all day. She met Dan a few weeks ago at Mr. Lytell's while she was dropping off some packages for her mother and Dan sauntered in to buy some coffee. One thing led to another, and before she knew it, they were sitting in a booth at Wimpy's.

Alone.

Talking.

Talking so much, and so at ease with each other, her mother called her, worried. It had been two hours since she left home.

They exchanged numbers, and Dan called her a few days later. She was now in the surprising position of seeing Dan Mangan socially. Nothing too heavy, nothing too intense, just some nice friendship with the occasional friendly kiss. Taking it slow, something she really needed to practice.

So here she was, Kaitlin McCourt, smiling up at a dashing Dan Mangan, attired so dreamily in a tux. She sighed. He really looked yummy.

"Does Trixie know I'm your date?" the words fell out of her mouth as he escorted her to the seating area. She was a bit uncomfortable. Aidan, after all, was her brother. He was clearly moping around, although he had seen Leigh Michaels a few times. But she could tell he was just looking for a temporary diversion. Having been the recipient of more than one broken heart, she knew that it _would_ take time.

"Of course she does, Kait," Dan assured her. "You know how Trix is. She would've invited your brother – as a friend – too. She's got a stretchy heart."

As they reached the seats, she turned to Dan and brushed his shoulders. "You look very handsome, Mr. Mangan." Her smile was bright and reached her grey-green eyes.

As Dan's chocolate brown gaze melted into hers, for one moment, it just seemed like the two of them. His world tilted, and then righted as Mart tugged on his sleeve.

"Hi Kaitlin, let's GO, Dan." Shrugging helplessly, he let Mart lead him to the altar, where Jim, Brian and the minister were standing waiting the high sign. "I'm starving!"

Waiting at the altar, the young minister turned to Jim. "Nervous, Jim?" He may not have officiated at very many weddings yet, but the ones he did preside over were fraught with the groom's nerves. He supposed it was the same for the bride.

Jim turned his clear green gaze on the minister. "Are you kidding?" he said. "I've been waiting for this day since I was 15 years old."

Peter Belden stepped inside the tent for the first time. "Ok ladies, get in line!" _He_ was a bunch of nerves. Was he doing the right thing? Were Trixie and Jim doing the right thing? They were awfully young.

And then he saw her, his princess. And she took his breath away. Striding to her side, he whispered, "You look beautiful, Princess. There's ah, still time to call it off, if you desire," he half-joked.

Trixie threw back her head with a dazzling smile. She may have looked every inch the elegant bride, but the snort that worked its way past her pert nose was pure Trixie. Unconsciously echoing her groom's words, she said quite astringently, "Are you kidding? I've been waiting for this day since I was 13 years old."

Dan appeared out of nowhere to escort Maddy Wheeler to her chair as the mother of the groom. In a few moments, both Mart and Brian had the pleasure of escorting their mother to her place of honor.

Bobby hit the boombox, and the strains of "Storybook Love" from _The Princess Bride _began to softly play. Di took a deep breath, and began the long walk up the aisle.

Honey turned around and gave the widest, most happy smile to Trixie. "Love you, soon-to-be-sis!" Then, it was her turn to glide up the white runner. Di was waiting up there for her, and the minister. Her brother gave her a smile and a wink, and mouthed to her, _You look lovely._

There were a few beats of silence, and the congregation stood for the entrance of the young bride and her father.

As Trixie and Peter Belden stepped onto the long white road, the mellow tones of Frank Sinatra softly sung "Someone to Watch Over Me."

The bride and the groom stared into each other's eyes, snapping sapphire blue to emerald green fire. Their world narrowed to the intense gaze they shared. They neither heard the romantic music, saw the people watching their every move, or felt the gentle sunlight caress their faces. All they could see was each other and all they could feel was the spell they were under.

Jim and Trixie, so carefully circumspect and reserved about their public displays of affection were laid bare before their friends and families. Every naked emotion was reflected on their unguarded faces, holding the congregation in thrall.

Trixie was lost in the frank emotion tumbling out of Jim's emerald gaze and engulfing her. Her father helped her up onto the concrete slab, and answered the minister's question. She felt Peter put her slender hand in Jim's and kiss her cheek, before he turned to take his place with Helen.

Jim was drowning in the sapphire blue seas of Trixie's remarkable eyes. No one had ever looked at him like she did. Like he was the only thing in her world. He could feel the pinpricks of heat on his exposed skin that her eyes were generating in him. Suddenly, she was there in front of him, Peter Belden murmuring something and then Trixie's hand in his. The shiver, shudder of desire, of love coursed through his body like a bolt of lightning.

"You're so beautiful Trix. I love you," he whispered.

She smiled at him and responded in kind. "I love you too. Let's get married, college boy."

The ceremony was beautiful but brief; Brian produced the wedding bands on cue. There were not many dry eyes as the bride and groom repeated the age-old vows. The minister pronounced them married, and invited Jim to kiss his bride.

He turned her and smiled his big, goofy, lopsided grin. Instead of taking her in his arms, his right hand shot out. "Shake. My name's Jim. What's yours?"

Those clear blue eyes smiled right into his as she put her left hand into his. A lot was different from that first meeting right here in Ten Acres. The house was gone, they were older, and the hand she put so carefully into his carried his rings upon it.

She wrinkled her nose at him and responded. "I'm Trixie Belden _Frayne. _And home," she said softly as he drew her to him, "Home is wherever you are, Jim."

And much to the delight of their friends and family, they sealed the deal with a kiss.

The End

A/N: What! I can hear my perfectly perfect readers saying now. What about all those photographs being surreptitiously taken? What about the letter Trixie received when she got Jim's first flower delivery? Will Dan find happiness and love with Kaitlin? What about Aidan? To discover the answers to these questions, and ride along in the hunt for the serial killer known as The Dollmaker, join me in my next story coming very soon…._Tabloid Trix_.

As ever, my very special thanks to my lovely and talented editor Mylee, without whom I would never had had the courage to publish this!


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